Tell Me I Was Dreaming
by Shyfox
The Hardest Decisions
[reviews]
Chapter Eight: The hardest decisions
Here I go again.
Driving to the edge of town.
I need to be alone when I'm thinking.
With no one else around.
I've always been a dreamer.
And from here I dream alot.
And now I see the end of Camelot.
If anyone could have a change of heart.
Maybe you can change your mind.
But if you're given up, if you're letting go.
Don't let me be the last to know.
Here I go again.
Just walking down the same old streets.
I don't want to see anybody.
I want to be discreet.
I'm a firm believer.
And I once believed in you.
But now I can't believe all the things you put me through.
If anyone could have a change of heart.
Surely, you can change your mind.
But if you're given up, if you're letting go.
Don't let me be the last to know.
I'm not thinking straight.
I'm not feeling great.
I'm not sleeping too well.
I'm not doing what I know I can.
I can't help myself.
Only time will tell.
If anyone could have a change of heart.
Maybe you can change your mind.
But if you're given up, if you're letting go.
Don't let me be the last to know.
-- Peter Cetera 'The end of Camelot'
The room fell into instantaneous, deafening silence as each of them tried to comprehend and come to terms with the momentous words Buffy Summers had just spoken.
Amid a haze of confusion, anxiety and general upset, Dr. Peter Greene stepped into the fray to try to put a dim light onto the subject. "Hello, Buffy." Peter said, gaining the patient's attention while reinforcing the name so that Buffy would have at least one fact about herself to cling to. "My name is Dr. Peter Greene and you are in Sunnydale General hospital. Do you remember anything at all about how you came to be here?"
His tone was reassuring and the confused woman found herself listening to it intently. Not wanting to disappoint the man who seemed to be her one anchor in a sea of unfamiliar faces, she searched her blank memory for the information he sought or any clue of her own identity. Finally, she shook her head slowly, feeling a dull roaring ache roll over her shoulders and the back of her skull, and sighed silently in defeat.
She felt uncomfortable when she looked at the other people in the room, especially the redhead that sat in the chair by her bed, so she kept her attention locked on the doctor, who was explaining to her how she'd been in a coma and that her amnesia was an expected part of her recovery process.
He said that it would probably fade in time as she started to remember things, especially when she was in a more familiar setting, but that it would take time and she'd have to deal with the frustration of everyone knowing her better then she did herself.
Buffy nodded as she tried to understand all that was happening. She couldn't stop wondering over the sadness that filled each face in the room, although most of them tried to hide it she could tell that it was there.
Joyce waited until the doctor had finished his explanation, before she made her way over to the bed, careful not to be too emotional as she greeted her daughter. "Hi Honey. You probably don't remember this...but I'm your mom."
Buffy tried on a smile for her mother, but somehow it felt awkward and strange. She stared at this person who claimed to be her mother and hunted for some shred of recognition or the love you're supposed to feel for your parents. She found instead a huge wall of nothing and that terrified her. "Hi...mom." She tried, her eyes tearing as she saw the concern amplify in the hazel eyes. "I'm sorry...I don't remember you." She whispered.
"It's okay, honey. It will all come back with time." Joyce said, trying to reassure her.
Willow had watched the stranger that was her wife as she had listened to the doctor. She had never thought that looking at Buffy could ever hurt her. But looking into those eyes and seeing a stranger looking back at her was almost too much for her to take. When Joyce moved forward to establish herself as Buffy's mother, Willow found herself fading into the background. She found, with great surprise, that she was content to remain there, uncertain where her place with Buffy now was, and unsure how to introduce herself to her own wife.
Both Xander and Giles introduced themselves, joking quietly with their friend, before finding excuses to leave the room.
Willow felt her mother pat her awkwardly on the shoulder, taking small comfort from it, before she heard her mother's footsteps leaving the room as well. She wished that she could go with them without being noticed, but considering the fact that she was still holding Buffy's hand, a fact that the blonde hadn't seemed to notice, it made it seem nigh impossible. So, she was left staring at a person that she loved more than life itself...a person she knew didn't know her from Adam.
It was a very strange feeling, and it made her want to distance herself from the whole situation.
Cautiously, she eased her hand out of Buffy's, hoping that she was too distracted with her conversation with her mother to feel her pull away. She knew the movement was felt when a pair of blue eyes seared into her own. She gulped, feeling self-conscious as she was pulled by the power of those eyes. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Buffy." She managed to say, quite softly, as she rose from the chair she'd been sitting in for over six hours.
The blonde brow furrowed for a moment, as if Buffy was trying to figure her out. "Thank you." She said finally, and even her voice sounded different to the Wiccan's ears.
Plastering a false smile to suddenly trembling lips, Willow nodded rapidly. Babble mode fell swiftly on the tightly wound wiccan and she found herself talking rapidly while she backed her way towards the door. "Anytime. That's what friends are for. I'll let you get some rest now, kay? I could sure use some rest myself. I'll see you later." She said, before she quickly left the room.
Buffy blinked, not knowing what to make of the sudden departure. "Is she always like that?" She asked, looking at her mom quizzically.
Joyce stared worriedly after her daughter-in-law before she answered her daughter's question. "I think she's just tired, honey. You've had us all worried for a while, and now it's just a relief to have you awake."
Buffy frowned, thinking about all of the people that had been in her room when woke up. Now only her mother remained. "Even though I don't remember you?" She asked, starting to wonder if she had offended them.
Joyce nodded. "We're just happy to have you back."
*****
Willow made it into the hallway before she felt her floodgates being completely overwhelmed. She so desperately didn't want to break down, especially where passing nurses and orderlies could see her and look at her with pity shining from their eyes...she didn't want to become a spectacle for the entire hospital to see. 'Oh look at the poor, pitiful, pregnant girl. Wonder who died?' She could just imagine their thoughts as they would pass by her. She could almost feel the flood of judgments cast down by people who had seen too much grief and sorrow to ever be truly sympathetic to it. And what could she possibly say to these people to explain why she was crying, why she actually felt like she was dying inside.
Despite her every intention, she felt her walls crumbling and knew that she was about to lose it in that very hallway. Wiping uselessly at eyes that were already beginning to swell with tears, she ran blindly through the hall, looking for the nearest place where she could hide herself away.
*****
"This is so frustrating." Xander ground out between gritted teeth, swiping his fingers through his hair as he paced back and forth across a floor he was quickly growing sick of. "I mean, we get her back, she's awake...but now she can't remember us? What good is that?"
"Xander." Giles completely understood Xander's frustration. He imagined they were all feeling many shades of that emotion at the moment. It had to be especially difficult for Joyce and Willow. But Xander wasn't helping things by griping about it.
"What? Giles...what are we going to do? We need a Slayer. How do we tell her? Just walk right up and say, 'Look, I know you just came out of a coma and all, but...'"
"Well then, we're just going to have to handle things without her, won't we?" Giles said, a bit snippily, but then they all were under a great deal of stress. He glanced around the hospital to make sure they weren't overheard, then sent his best reproachful glare Xander's way.
Xander quickly shut up, knowing he'd hit a nerve, and flopped down hard into the nearest chair.
"You're right, Giles. I just...I'm worried about what this is going to do to them...I mean...did you see the look on Willow's face?" Xander slumped back into his seat, staring up at Giles with a bleak look on his face. "I'm not sure how much more she can take."
*****
In a small corridor, hidden between two vacant stretchers, Willow sat up against a wall, arms wrapped around her knees, her head back against the cool surface as she watched nurses scurry up and down the hall.
What am I going to do? That was the question that kept swirling around her head like snowflakes on a winter wind. She'd spent the last half hour trying to figure out how to answer it, and was unsurprised to discover that she really had no clue. She'd stared at her hands, laced tightly on her knees, and more specifically at the rings that graced her finger and thought about the person who had put them there, making all of her dreams come true in the process. It was so hard to believe that same person had forgotten all about her. That person didn't have a clue who she was or that she carried her child, and probably wouldn't have cared less if she had known.
"No...that isn't fair to her." Willow chastised herself grimly. She could tell that Buffy had felt really bad about not recognizing her own mother. She had seen the conflicted look on her face as she had struggled to remember the people filling her room, and the connection that she shared with them. So saying that Buffy didn't care that she couldn't remember them was not only unfair, it wasn't true.
Still, the problem remained. How did she go about telling Buffy what she meant to her? She wasn't even sure that she should. How could she walk in there and tell Buffy who she really was? "Hi. Me again...just wanted to let you know that...I'm your wife and I'm carrying your child." That sounded stupid, even inside her own head and she remembered everything. How could she possibly expect her to take that at face value? She wasn't sure she would believe Buffy if the cards were reversed, so how could she expect her wife to believe the miraculous insanity that was their lives?
After long moments of deliberation, and heart rending soul searching, she decided that she couldn't. She couldn't take the chance that Buffy might freak out, possibly running away to escape her, she'd done it before during other trying circumstances and this would certainly count as a trying circumstance, leaving behind the love and support of her family and friends which she so desperately needed at this time.
No. It would be better if she didn't know. At least for now. Willow decided. She would have to talk it over with Joyce and Giles, but she was sure that some arrangements could be made. Leaving would be the hardest part. She felt her throat closing up just thinking about it. She didn't want to think of how much worse it was going to feel when she actually did it. The trick would be in not leaving a trace of their relationship behind for Buffy to stumble over and discover before she was ready, or before she could remember on her own, which was something Willow was secretly hoping for and counting on.
Looking back down at the rings on her finger, she sighed forlornly. "Well, these should be the first to go, I guess." She mumbled to herself, watching as they seemed to gleam mockingly under the fluorescent lighting. It felt as if she were being stabbed with the same knife that had sliced through her wife's innards like butter, as she removed first her wife's, then her own wedding rings, followed by the tiny engagement ring she had worn happily for the last three months.
Not pausing long enough to give herself time for thought, she took the silver chain from around her neck and slipped the rings onto the chain, listening to them clink metallically against each other as she put them on. She fought the tears that threatened to surface, ignoring the dull ache in her chest as she put the necklace back around her neck, feeling the metal settle against her skin.
*****
The hardest part, she would reflect much later, would be getting Joyce and Giles to go along with her. They'd argued about it, long and hard, nearly bringing Willow close to bursting into tears several times before she'd been able to get her point across. Dr. Greene had unwittingly helped her argument by telling them Buffy shouldn't be shocked into remembering anything, Buffy should recover at her own time and pace, and finally, Giles and Joyce had found no choice but to give into Willow's resolve.
Now, a week later, Willow stood in a room that was bare of anything that belonged to her, except for one suitcase remaining on the bed, and the picture that she held in her hands. It was one they had taken after they had first moved in, Joyce's had insisted really, saying they should do something to commemorate the moment. Willow had always wondered if she had done it to try to make up for walking in on them that time, but she hadn't found the courage to ask her about it. In the picture, Willow stood behind the blonde, her arms circling her lover's shoulders while she smiled enthusiastically at the photographer. Buffy held her trademark smirk on her face, and Willow wondered what her lover, now wife, had been thinking about at the time. She wondered if she'd ever get the chance to find out.
Joyce stood in the doorway, feeling the sadness the redhead emanated from herself in waves. Even though she knew what the answer was going to be, she had to try one last time. "Are you sure...this is what you want?"
Willow turned and regarded the woman that had been mother to her for the last three months...longer than that really, but Willow thought they had formed a special relationship over the last few months. One forged from the relationship she had with her daughter, and the baby that was only a few more months away. So, she knew that Joyce knew that she didn't want to go...she also knew that Willow felt like she didn't have any other choice. "What else can I do?" Willow asked, and for the first time allowed the hopelessness she felt to show on her face.
The emotion hit the older woman, bringing tears to her own eyes as she took in the sight of the younger woman, trying to be so strong for her daughter's sake, neglecting her own needs in the process. "Oh...honey." Joyce wrapped the shaking girl in her arms, hoping to bestow some comfort, and wishing there was some way out of this.
Willow allowed this for a few moments, knowing it was something they both needed, before she pulled away gently, trying to ignore the tears that appeared in her mother-in-law's eyes, and the tears she felt forming in her own. "Buffy's going to be home soon." Xander and Anya had gone to the hospital to pick her up and bring her home...she wasn't sure that was the wisest choice, Xander still didn't agree that keeping Buffy in the dark was the right thing to do, but Joyce wanted to help Willow finish packing and Giles was helping her to get moved into his place, and was presently waiting for her to finish up here so he could bring her home. Willow just prayed that Xander and the ex-demon had enough sense to keep their mouth shut.
"I need to..." She started nodding, as her throat closed up, then moved over to her suitcase where she finished packing what remaining clothes were left. Looking down at the photograph she had placed on the bed, intent on packing it with the rest of her belongings, she paused in thought, carefully considering it before she put it back on the dresser. When Joyce looked at her curiously, Willow shrugged her shoulders gently. "We are friends. It would be weird if she didn't have at least one picture of me." Joyce nodded in understanding, while Willow went back to collect her suitcase. She knew Giles would be waiting for her downstairs.
Joyce followed her from the room, noticing as Willow stopped to look at the closed nursery room door. "Do you want to.." 'Go inside?' She would have finished her question if Willow hadn't shook her head vehemently. The expectant mother had seen it only once since she had returned home a week ago, but she had found the memories in there so vivid and painful that she hadn't been in there since. Not even while Joyce had been putting the lock on the door, a lock to which only she and Willow held the key.
She would have said something else, but Willow was moving again, heading down the stairs and Joyce felt a moment of panic as she wondered if the red-head would ever return. At the door, Willow turned back, a thoughtful look on her face and Joyce paused on the stairs, so many memories running through her mind. "Thank you, Joyce. For everything." Willow smiled, and then she was gone, following the tall Brit as he carried her suitcase towards his car, seeming as stoic as ever as he witnessed the fall of one of the happiest homes he had ever known.
As they drove away, Willow couldn't help glancing back, burning into memory the sight of the cherished white house, and the image of Joyce standing in the doorway, watching them go, just as Xander's dirty grey car was pulling into the driveway. Willow caught a flash of blonde hair just before Giles turned the corner and she knew that Buffy had finally made it home.