Buffy Summers stared at the folder containing her sister’s test results from the protective confines of Giles’s arms as she listened to the doctor tell them about possible treatments and surgeries.
She felt so trapped in here, this small, cramped box of an office. It had the sterile, antiseptic smell of the hospital, although the physician had attempted to hide that fact with a large, green scented candle in the middle of her desk.
It wasn’t helping, and Buffy felt herself feeling horribly sick to her stomach as she watched the happy flame dance in the tight confines of the glass jar the candle was encased in, although it truly wasn’t the candle’s fault.
Not only had she lost her mother, she was going to lose Dawn, too, and Buffy couldn’t handle that knowledge right now.
She glanced down at the cold, uncaring folder, then back up at the bright little candle flame.
“And there’s nothing we can do?” She heard Willow, who was sitting on the opposite side of them, ask the doctor timidly, worry and fear filling her voice as she fidgeted with the hem of her purple sweater.
The doctor shook her head sadly at them. “Not unless we can find a donor in time, but her blood type being as rare as it is, I don’t think it’s likely.
There are some treatments we could have tried if we’d caught this sooner, but it’s too far progressed for anything to be any use. I think it would be more of a detriment then a help.
“I am so sorry,” the doctor continued, gazing at Buffy’s tear-stained face sympathetically. “I know how hard this is, especially Dawn being so young. We’ve put her on the organ list, and if anything comes up, we’ll be certain to let you know immediately. Until then, just keep her home, and try to keep things as normal as possible for her.”
Willow and Giles helped Buffy out of the office and into the hall of the busy hospital before she broke down completely, falling on her knees.
“What is wrong with me? Why does everyone I love have to die? Why can’t I have one moment of happiness before everything is stripped away?” She wailed, beating the industrial, blue carpet that lined the hall with her small, strong fists.
Horrified patients and nurses passed by her, making a wide berth as Giles and Willow tried to calm her down, but it was useless.
Eventually, Giles picked her up gently, and she buried her head into his shoulder.
“Let’s get her home. This isn’t helping anything, and we need to get back to Dawnie anyway.
“And there’s nothing the doctors can do for her?” Tara asked later that night as Willow broke the news to her in the room they shared at Buffy’s house.
“That’s awful. Poor Dawn, does she know?”
Willow shook her head sadly, unshed tears glistening in her soft green eyes as she sat cross-legged on their bed, flipping through a random spell book without reading the words on the pages.
“No, all she knows is that she’s sick, I mean, how could she not? She has to go in for treatments so much. She just doesn’t know she’s going to… die… from it.
Buffy doesn’t want her to know just yet, and I don’t blame her.
“The doctor said that a transplant would probably save her life, but she has an incredibly rare blood type, probably courtesy of being the key, and they don’t think they’ll be able to find a donor in time.”
Tara came over from where she was pacing around the room, and sat next to Willow, closing the book and tossing it on the desk beside the bed. She wrapped her arms around her tightly, and rested her chin lightly on Willow’s shoulder.
“It’s going to be all right, Wil,” Tara said gently, although she knew from the past that sometimes things didn’t work out just as you wanted them too.
Willow nodded, but refused to believe it. Nothing turned out all right without a little help.
There had to be something they could do to help Dawn and Buffy, she just had to find the right spells.
Tara must have sensed what she was thinking, because she suddenly sat up and looked Willow in the eye.
“Don’t mess with it, Willow,” she said warningly.
“I know what you’re thinking, and leave it alone.”
Willow began protesting, but Tara stopped her.
“I’m sorry, I’m just tired and upset. Let’s forget about it for now, and just get some sleep, all right?” Tara sounded forlorn and exhausted, and Willow nodded.
She didn’t want to argue, either.
They both got ready for bed, and turned out the lights.
In the next room, Dawn lay in the dark, curled in bed, listening to the muted sounds of their voices. She couldn’t quite make out what they were saying through the wall, but she didn’t really care.
Buffy had gone to talk to her doctor that day, and find out what was wrong with her, but so far Buffy hadn’t said a word to her about it.
Dawn wished her sister would just come out and say it. Did she need an operation or horrible treatments of some kind?
Whatever it was, it couldn’t be that bad, and Dawn was tired of being left in the dark like a little kid all the time.
She also wanted to hurry and get everything over with, so she could go back to not feeling awful at every waking moment.
It was late, and the house was silent. She wanted company, but there was only one person in the house she could think of that would be awake at this hour.
Spike.
She climbed out of bed slowly, grabbing her nightstand to prevent herself from falling headfirst into the floor, and stood upright for a few moments.
The dizziness finally passed, and she made her way into the hall, and down the stairs.
As she reached the bottom step, a sharp pain in her stomach flared up, and she nearly fell, clinging to the banister for dear life.
“What the hell are you doing up?” she heard a familar voice say through the pain, and then felt someone pick her up gently and carry her into the living room, laying her down on the wide, brown couch.
“Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
She smiled up into the blue eyes of the vampire and leaned back against the sofa cushions.
“Hey, Spike,” she said as she was hit by another sharp pain.
“You want me to go get Buffy?” he asked, watching her face contort in agony.
“No, it’s ok,” Dawn gasped, clutching his arm to stop him.
“I’m better now.”
“Oh, are you really?” He said sarcastically, sitting on the floor beside the couch.
He must have already been up here, she realized, and heard her come down the stairs.
The windows were open, something Buffy never did, the television was on in the corner, and Spike was the only person she knew that watched soap opera re-runs.
Spike smiled briefly at her, and wondered what was wrong.
He knew she was sick, he could sense it, but he couldn’t put his finger on what is was.
His vampire sixth sense was very vague.
He scooped her up in his arms again, to take her back up to her room as she protested.
“No, Spike, I want to stay down here with you!” She started crying and fighting him, but he ignored her feeble attempts, and carried her up the dark staircase.
“Don’t make me go back up there, Spike! I hate you!” Dawn squealed as he reached the top step, and he saw Buffy’s light turn on.
Thank God, he thought to himself as her door opened and Buffy rushed out angrily.
“What the hell is going on out here?” she yelled at Spike, and then, seeing Dawn, instantly became more worried than mad.
“She came downstairs for some reason, and started having bad pains. I came to bring her back to bed, and she got like this,” Spike explained, gesturing to Dawn, who was still trying to get the vampire to put her down.
“Oh, God… Thanks, Spike. Can you put her back in her bed for me?” Buffy followed Spike and Dawn, and watched anxiously as Spike gently laid her down, and pulled the blanket back over her.
Buffy sat down next to her on the bed, and asked “What’s the matter, Dawnie? You shouldn’t be getting up like that.
Do you need something?”
Dawn crossed her arms over her chest, pouting, and said, “No, I’m fine. I couldn’t sleep, but I didn’t want to wake anyone up, so I went downstairs to watch TV. Spike was there, but I got some bad pains, so he brought me back up here. I’m fine.”
Buffy hugged her tightly. “He did the right thing. You shouldn’t be climbing the stairs, you could fall and get hurt.
I love you, Dawnie. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Buffy was glad the light was still off, and Dawn couldn’t see the tears glistening in her eyes.
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