The Cost of Living: Part 2
by Anya
The death of the demon passed without Giles being aware of it, instead, disregarding the pounding in his head, he ran as hard as he could down to the base of the escarpment painfully aware that despite all his haste he would be too late.

His pale eyes stayed fix on the small girl, watching the trembling set into her raised hands, and then her body. She had gone too far, tapping past her own reserves into her lifeforce and then beyond. The ashen colour of her face, in sharp contrast to the rich red of blood trickling down her chin, indicated a shortage of oxygen. "We are going to have a long discussion on magic, Ms. Rosenberg, when this is all over." He promised in a scarce whisper.

Oz and Cordelia still sat against the stone wall, staring at Willow's back with blank expressions. The volume of hair, and the heavy sweater hid her body's keen trembling and disguised just how much harm she had done to herself. "Damn." Giles hissed, wishing he'd intervened earlier. They would likely sit there until it was too late, and then regret their inaction. This anger and guilt over a stupid mistake would be the destruction of them all.

"WILLOW!" Giles bellowed, as her eyes drifted closed. Her head slowly rolled forward, and her body weight began to collapse under it's own uncontrolled mass. "Catch her!" Giles shouted again, this time directing his words to Oz and Cordelia.

Their stunned gazes turned to him, the startled confusion they felt shining through. Willow was already collapsing, and neither moved a muscle.

"Christ!" Buffy's curse rang out from behind him. Giles didn't pause, didn't look back, he just kept on moving, silently agreeing with Buffy as Willow's head struck the ground with an audible 'thump'.

Oz was shambling to his feet, and slowly approaching Willow by the time Giles skidded beside the fallen girl, dropping to his knees as he reached out for her pulse. "Oh no. No you don't." He muttered, rolling her over and tilting up her head. Pinching her nose, he carefully began mouth to mouth resuscitation, mindless of the thought that not only was the girl not breathing, but also she had no pulse.

Buffy dropped beside him a second later, reaching out for Willow's wrist. She dropped it instantly, and began CPR, much to Giles' surprise. Lifting his head on the measured count, he glanced at her, trying to determine if she actually knew what she was doing.

"Don't." Buffy said shortly, keeping the carefully beated rhythm needed to sustain Willow's heart. "I've a Slayer's strength. I can do this as long as I need to. You can't."

She was right, Giles conceded, dropping down to continue administering the three breaths Willow's blood needed to remain oxygenated. The constant force needed to administer successful CPR was incredibly tolling on a body, and Buffy had a supernatural strength, one that would prevent her muscles from over-tiring prematurely.

"What are you doing?" Oz found his voice. "Is Willow okay?" He reached out to touch the redhead, denying what Buffy's expression was saying.

Shortly, Giles pushed the boy away. "Get out of our way." He growled, loosing his patience. "She died to save you, now let us try and save her."

Oz fell back, his eyes widening and chest heaving as shock and pain began to intermingle. The love he felt for Willow welled up, and threatened to overwhelm him as the reality of Giles' words set in. Willow had saved them, had saved him, but left him alone. Furiously, he shook his head, denying everything. "No. No. No. Not my Will?"

Giles and Buffy remained silent, maintaining their frantic efforts to keep Willow's body alive. With each pump to her heart, Willow's body convulsed, although, her ribs had long since stopped breaking.

"We have to get her to a hospital." Giles said shortly, glancing at Buffy's frowning expression.

The Slayer grunted. "How? If we stop she dies. If we keep going, she still dies. I don't like these odds, Giles." Oz's moan was ignored, as Willow's need was far, far greater.

"We have to-" Giles froze, looking up at the man dropping beside them in surprise. "How? The opening? we have to get Willow?"

Angel shook his head, moving to rest Willow's head on his lap. "Trust me." He muttered, tilting her head to expose her neck. "I won't hurt her." Before Giles or Buffy could respond, he vamped and struck out, biting down on the girl's neck with such speed that Buffy couldn't have staked him first.

Oz howled, launching himself at the vampire.

As quickly as he struck, Angel stopped, absently shrugging Oz off as he lifted his hand to his wrist. "I didn't take enough." He informed Giles quickly, before the Watcher could sic his Slayer on him. "Enough to create a tie between us, it will be short lived. They always are."

Giles blinked, unable to fathom what the vampire meant by that. He wasn't too particularly comfortable with Angel at the best of times. The memories of Jenny's body sprawled across his bed tended to haunt him heavily when Angel was near.

Angel lifted his hand to his mouth, and nipped, quickly applying the rising blood to Willow's mouth. "I need to make her swallow a drop or two. No more. Not enough to vamp her." He explained hastily, sensing Buffy's recoiling opposition. "It won't heal her." He continued, moving his hand to stroke Willow's mouth, urging an involuntary swallow. "But, if I do this, I can make her heart beat, and make her breath. At least, until we get her to a hospital. Then, it's up to science to bring her back."

Buffy glanced quickly at Giles, silently asking for confirmation. Rocking back onto his heels, Giles studied Angel's face with due caution, before finally nodding assent. "Is it working?"

The vampire frowned, his brow furrowing in the same expression of concentration that Willow used. "You tell me." He gritted out.

Buffy gripped Willow's wrist again, easily locating a pulse point and then waited. "We have heartbeat." She announced, glancing at the thin chest. "And respiration. Let's move."

Wordlessly, Angel gathered up Willow's tiny body, using the close contact to keep tabs on Willow's autonomic functions. The girl's head lay against his shoulder, giving her the innocent look of a sleeper. The feeling he got from her, however, said otherwise. This was a shell, Willow's spirit either having fled life, or had retreated deep inside her mind to await final death.

Without waiting for the other's, he turned and made for the opening, hoping the large lever Faith had constructed out of wood and stone was successfully holding the opening in his absence.

Buffy turned to Oz and Cordelia. "Snap out of it." Her voice was crisp, and her patience thin in her anxiety. They stared at her like two stuffed dolls, all substance and no personality. "She'll be fine."

"She saved us." Oz whispered.

Buffy flicked a glance at him, out of the corner of her eye. "Yes, she did." She agreed, shepherding them towards freedom. "And you can thank her later."

"Can I?" The guitarist's shoulders slumped. "She's dead. She's gone." He looked up to Angel's swiftly retreating form, with his burden barely visible. "And I didn't tell her I still love her."


* * *
He could feel his control slipping. Tightening his arms about Willow's body, Angel bent his mind to the task, despite the growing resistance. If she had even ingested a drop of his blood, he was lucky, he supposed. The fact that there was no 'life' in the body made getting the blood into her all the harder. "Don't you dare die, Willow Anne Rosenberg." He growled softly. "Or I will make sure the only thing your laptop can do is play Mickey-Mouse games."

The others were some distance behind him, but Angel wasn't willing to wait. As he had ducked through the narrow opening between the caverns, he'd first noticed the weakness of his control on Willow's body. For a brief moment, her heart had stopped again. It had taken some effort, but Angel had regained control, and then decided the sooner he got her to the hospital, the far better for everyone's peace of mind.

Now, as he opened the door to Oz's van, he was loathe to let her go, but knew that he couldn't run to the hospital as fast as he could drive. 'Six minutes without oxygen to the brain, and she's dead.' He reminded himself viciously. 'So don't dawdle.'

Gently, he set her in the passenger seat, carefully reclining the chair to cradle her flaccid limbs. Locking the seatbelt into place, he touched her throat softly, just below his bite marks. The pulse was still there, weak, but there. Even if he lost control of her heart beat, so long as he restored it before brain death occurred, there was a chance for her. 'Fifty years ago, we'd have just started digging the hole by now.'

Oz was a creature of habit, which given the fact that he was also a werewolf, really didn't surprise Angel. Every other were-creature that Angel or Angelus had encountered had retained the behaviour of their animalistic side. Wolves were creatures of habit, they defined their domain, set periods for hunting, sleeping, roaming, and playing and stuck to those practices.

Oz was much the same. He had his comfort zone, his habits, and his methods of play. And he didn't diversify much from those habits. Usually. The boy's avoidance of Willow, though, that was out of the ordinary despite the circumstances that caused it. Wolves were monogamous; but a strayed mate would usually be forgiven.

"But you didn't give him the opportunity to forgive." Angel caught himself chastising the silent figure beside him. "You gave up." Logically, that wasn't true. Willow had made the bravest sacrifice of all, willingly giving her life to save two others. It was an act done out of love, not duty, which made it all the more heartbreaking.

The van turned over easily, a credit to Oz's regular maintenance of the older vehicle. It was in far better shape than Giles' Citroen. Sunnydale Community hospital was a good fifteen minutes away, assuming the speed limit was observed.

Angel wasn't about to spare such trivialities his attention. He turned to check Willow one more time, his fingers lingering above her mouth to catch the moist warmth of a breath. "Don't you stop breathing, now!" He told her sternly. This was not good. If he drove, one of her primary systems would definitely fail. If he didn't drive, the blood would leave her system too soon. "Damn."

Oz yanked open the driver's door, panting heavy. "I'll drive." He said with gasped breaths. "You keep her alive."

Angel blinked. "How?" He looked past the boy to the cavern opening. The others weren't in sight, or anywhere nearby.

Oz shrugged, pushing Angel towards Willow, and taking his usual seat. "I ran."

Angel crouched in the space between the two front seat chairs, one hand wrapped around Willow's wrist. "You should join the track team." He muttered. "Sunnydale High could use the help."

Oz grunted, taking the van out of park. "Unfair advantage." He said shortly, his head refusing to glance in Angel's direction. If he took a look at Willow's white face, he knew he'd loose it. Few things in life ever really rattled him, but watching Willow kiss Xander, and then watching Willow die, that really upset him.

He needed her to live. She just had to. He needed to tell her he was sorry, that he forgave her, that he still loved her. He just needed so much to hold her, touch her and know that she was feeling his touch.

He needed to understand why she had kissed Xander, and then to make sure she never wanted to again. He needed her, not the memory of her.

"Are you planning on doing the speed limit?" Angel asked, incredulously. Oz's face was a study of concentration. Jaw rigid, forehead furrowed, the boy was staring at the road ahead of him like it was some sort of paradox.

"No." Oz said flatly. "Do you mind?"

Angel shrugged, turning sharply to eye the rise and fall of Willow's chest suspiciously. For just a fraction of a moment, he'd thought she'd paused in breathing, against his express wishes to the contrary. "Would you quit arguing with me?" He muttered. "There will be no dying happening here!"

Oz shuddered, and pressed down heavier on the gas. Maybe doing 80 along the winding part of the highway wouldn't be so bad, after all. Gritting his teeth, his fingers tightened on the wheel, and he pretended not to feel it when the van wasn't on all four wheels.

The lights of Sunnydale grew closer with every passing second. By the clock on the dash, Oz knew he'd been driving three minutes before Angel cursed audibly. At four minutes, Angel was removing the seatbelt from Willow and laying her flat on the floor, one hand at her pulse-point.

He still refused to look.

It wasn't until Angel started muttering to himself, pleading with Willow that Oz floored it and started to run red lights. Nearly sideswiping an ambulance, he tore into the emergency round about, vaulting from the car to the side sliding door. Angel had already gathered Willow up. As soon as the door opened, he ran for the ER.

"Help her!" Angel shouted, using that deep loud booming sound of voice that always seemed to get immediate attention. "She's not breathing!"

Like magic, and maybe it was a type of magic, a team approached, one reaching out to touch Willow, lifting her eyelids. "How long ago did she stop breathing?"

Angel shook his head. "I don't know, no more than a minute. She was having problem on our way here, but she only just stopped. DO something."

A tall man, with graying hair signaled urgently to a coworker. "We are, sir. We need some information though." In seconds Willow was on a gurney, beginning CPR on her, but with the advanced techniques that hadn't been available in the cavern. Three people worked on her, for the most part blocking their view of their labors on Willow's still body.

Angel clamped a steadying hand on Oz, feeling the boy start when they began to insert a tube into her. Physically, he forced Oz to turn away. "What do you need to know."

The man led them away from the scene, the idea being that distance would help calm them down, and allow the professionals the space they needed to work. "I need her name, and her age. Did she eat anything unusual today, something she might be allergic to, like peanuts? When did you notice she was in distress?"

Angel's jaw locked, his final connection to Willow dissolving away. He knew the call was coming before he even heard it.

"No pulse." A defibrillator hummed behind them.

"Oh, God." Oz whimpered, sounding so much like a little boy, and not the calm pillar he'd always been for Willow.

"Her name is Willow Rosenberg." Angel managed steadily. "She's 16 years old."

"17. She was? is 17." Oz corrected mechanically.

Angel winced, another thing missed while he was tearing their lives apart as Angelus. "She's 17. I haven't seen her eat anything, so I don't know."

Oz shook his head. "She hasn't eaten."

The nurse or doctor, the boys weren't sure which, wrote this down hastily. "I'll need her parent's phone number." He intoned calmly. "Where did this happen?"

"Cradles' peak." Oz mumbled.

The man's eyebrow raised, "Cradle's peak? Why were you up there at this time of the night?"

Angel and Oz both froze. Each suspecting 'demon slaying' was not a valid answer.

"She was helping me with my science project on astronomy." Cordelia's voice was a gift from heaven. Filled with tears, shaky and sad, it was the most beautiful sound either Angel or Oz had ever heard. It meant the calvary had arrived.

Oz turned slowly, his despair so evident on his face. Buffy didn't hesitate, she smoothly pulled the boy into a hug, letting him borrow her strength. "She'll be okay." The Slayer promised with a soft whisper. "She has to be. The Scooby gang doesn't die!"

"Astronomy?" The doctor murmured. "I see. I'll still need her phone number."

Buffy pulled Oz away, allowing Giles to play the role of mature responsible adult. "Where is she?" She asked, looking past Oz to Angel for the answer.

"Over there." Angel pointed down the hall. "They moved her while talking to us. Last I heard, they were using shocks to get her heart started."

Buffy's face paled. "Oh."

She sank down into a seat, still cradling Oz. Giles was on the phone now, no doubt having offered to contact Willow's parents for the doctor. He looked so old, so tired, she thought. As if he'd just witnessed the death of his own child, and lost fifty years of his own life in the process.

It seemed like an eternity, but he finally nodded to the unseen voice at the other end of the phone, and hung up. With a word to the attendant, he slowly walked towards them.

Four pairs of eager eyes looked up at him, all wanting the words of comfort and wisdom that he didn't have to offer. "They won't say anything." Giles informed them sadly. "At least, not until they can speak with her parents. I took the liberty to also inform Xander of the situation."

Both Oz and Cordelia stiffened, but relaxed thinking how they'd be upset if they had been at home unaware and uninformed of the situation happening here. Giles favored them both with a sad little smile. "He and his parents will be here shortly, I daresay."

Buffy nodded. "Good. Willow would want everyone here rooting for her."

Time seemed to crawl, the emergency room a stale environment for waiting in, especially when the news could be so terrible. The longer they waited, the more they despaired; even though, conversely, the saying 'no news is good news' was doubly true in this place. The longer it took for the doctor came out, the more likely it was that Willow was with them still.

Willow's parents arrived first. The love they held for their only child clear in the anxiety. Walking through the doors, Ira and Sarah Rosenberg paused, Ira heading towards the information desk, and Sarah approaching the small cluster of Willow's friends. The pale colour of her face, and redness of her eyes belied the apparent calm in her mannerisms.

"Thank you for calling." She smiled sadly, falling into the hug Giles offered with no other word. In the course of the summer, Willow had made a point of insuring the lonely Brit. had a few adult companions to socialize with by introducing him to her parents as her favorite teacher.

Sarah and Ira were intellectuals, both appreciating theoretical and philosophical discussions, as well as the nuances of cultural history. All these things were topics Giles strongly related to, and allowed a strong adult friendship to develop. "You're welcome." He replied softly, as Sarah pulled back to gently enfold her daughter's boyfriend in a hug.

"Have you heard anything?" She asked the entire group while taking a seat beside Oz, holding onto his hand with the soothing clasp of a mother.

Angel shook his head. "They won't talk to us, we're not family."

Sarah sniffed indignity. The expression on her face a clear sign of where Willow had inherited her 'resolve face.' "They will now." She resolved firmly. The look she sent to her husband across the room spoke entire volumes.

Sluggishly, Ira Rosenberg shambled back to his wife. "She's on a ventilator with a heart monitor." He murmured softly, nodding to Giles in passing. "They said it was a fight, but? they got her."

A collective sigh released itself.

"What type of fight?" Sarah asked acerbically. "How much did they have to do?"

Ira looked at her helplessly.

Sarah pursed her lips. "I see." She murmured. It didn't truly surprise her, her husband's understanding of medicine was seriously limited. He was a lawyer, she was the doctor, albeit, a pediatrician. "Why don't you ask the doctor to join us and explain Willow's treatment?" She suggested.

Buffy almost smiled, as Ira turned away to do his wife's bidding. In his own way, Ira was just as whipped as Oz was to Willow.

Ira returned with the Doctor just in time for Xander to join the sad group. Giving his Aunt Sarah a hug, Xander removed himself to sit isolated from Oz and Cordelia, knowing they wouldn't want him nearby, and for once, respecting their wishes.

"Dr. Rosenberg?" An older woman with a kind, but tired face, smiled down at them. "I'm Elizabeth Carter, the primary doctor on your daughter's case. Your husband said you had some questions?"

Cordelia stood up, allowing Ira to sit down beside his wife. A look of resolve slid across her features, and daring greatly, she moved to sit beside Xander, offering her estranged boyfriend her hand. He squeezed tightly, the only betraying sign of his emotions.

"Yes." Sarah reached out with her other hand for Ira's. "I was wondering precisely what kind of lengths you had to go to in order to revive my daughter. I need to know what her odds are."

The doctor smiled, sitting on a small coffee table littered with magazines. "Doctors always are the worst when it's their children in the hospital." She smiled sadly. "Willow arrived in a state of respiratory shock. We began CPR. We used manual chest compressions until we could insert an endotracheal tube. Give your daughter's size, this was not easy. However, we were successful."

The woman gently set some magazines aside, allowing herself to get comfortable in her seat. Taking them all into her gaze, she continued. "We ordered a Chem-7, and a CBC, of course, while the ECG was being attached." Pausing, she glanced again at the young adults around her. "An ECG is a heart monitor." She informed them, granting them information by using terminology they could understand. "And a CBC helps us determine the blood count. It was at this point that she went into cardiac arrest. We administered three shocks with progressive voltage, but still failed to gain results."

Dr. Carter wearily rubbed her thigh, always hating giving out such detailed information to people who could understand the severity of the situation by her words. Sarah Rosenberg's little gasp had not gone unnoticed by the doctor. "Using the ECG readings as basis, we began ventricular fibrillation. This means, we administered some stimulants to the IV; adrenaline, lignocaine and bretylium. We also continued to administer shocks between each dose. This worked. Willow has retained a pulse on her own for the past twenty-five minutes. We are monitoring that closely, the longer she remains unaided, the better her chances."

"Right now, we have her classified as stable but critical condition. She is still on a heart monitor, as I said, and a ventilator."

"Why?" Sarah interjected. "Why is she still on a ventilator?"

Dr. Carter reached out to touch the other woman's knee. "Until Willow regains consciousness, I'm not comfortable taking her off the ventilator. The trauma done to her body, and the cascade of her system crashes does not inspire me with comfort that she will continue to breath unaided."

Sarah winced, her grip tightening on Ira's hand. "Meaning, you don't expect her to regain consciousness. You're anticipating a coma."

It was Dr. Carter's turn to wince. "I'd hate to say that." She replied. "Your daughter was very lucky. She has good friends who acted immediately. I credit that with saving her life to this point. I can't see her luck running out so soon." She held Sarah's gaze for a long moment, before turning it onto the husband beside her. "We will be moving Willow into ICU shortly. As soon as she can have visitors, I'll let you know."

Giles rubbed his eyes, the burn of a long restless night was the only part of him that actually felt alive. "So, we wait." He murmured softly, behind the retreating doctor's back.

Buffy reached up to touch her Watcher's hand. He easily held it, like a paternal parent to a timid child. "We wait." She agreed using the voice of a war veteran who had already witnessed too much loss, and knew more would come sooner or later.


This story archived at: The Slayer\'s Fanfic Archive
The Slayer\\\\\\\\'s FanFic Archive - http://www.slayerfanfic.com/viewstory.php?sid=35