Angel scratched his shoulder, wincing at the pain of scorched flesh. The library during day was a tricky place to reach, even with all the underground tunnels. It took concentration to get through without a mark. Unfortunately for him, his concentration was terrifically off.
Inching around the radiance the skylight allowed into the classic room, Angel eyed the librarian's office door cautiously. Since his regression to Angelus, some months ago, he could no longer be guaranteed that Giles kept blinds down over the large windows facing the west wall.
And given that the sun was now on the decline, it was potentially a bad situation for Angel to accidentally find himself in. "Oh well." He mumbled. "It could be worse."
Willow was a good friend, and her faith in him, as well as her gift to him of his soul was not something he could ignore. It had taken him the better part of the morning, sitting protected in his little hole with no way to find out what was happening in the hospital, to devise this plan. He knew what he had felt in her blood, and even though that contact was gone, dissolved away by the elapsed time, he knew the situation wasn't going to change on its own. A little help was definitely needed.
And if it worked, it would be his first major step towards making things right again in his world.
Carefully, he placed his hand on the large brass doorknob, and turned it gingerly. Wincing at the squeal of mechanisms in desperate need of oiling, he gave the door a good shove, but fell back against the wall outside of the room. Lifting his right hand, he examined it carefully for signs of smoking or burning.
"Angel? What ARE you doing?"
"AARGH!" He jumped a good two feet up, landing back on his feet much like a cat. "Buffy! Don't do that!"
The Slayer smirked, albeit, her little expression of pleasure lacked depth. "Nice to have the tables finally turned. You do that to me all the time."
Angel shook his head. "That's different. I'm a vampire. It's habit to sneak."
Buffy scooted her little rump up on the nearest study table, her backpack resting lightly across her lap. "I'm a Slayer, it's my job to sneak up on sneaky vampires." She replied. "What are you doing, trying to get into Giles office?"
Angel rolled his eyes, wishing for patience. There was another two hours until sunset, and he had a lot of work to do first. "I'm getting tea." He informed her quickly. "Giles has been calling regularly to keep me updated on Willow's condition. Since I know I'm probably the last person he wants to talk to - I thought I'd do something to demonstrate my appreciation."
Buffy smiled, a sincere expression. "Oh, that's nice." She murmured, jumping down from her seat. "And since by now he's reduced himself to eating cafeteria food, you can only go up in his good-books by doing this." Boldly, she walked into her Watcher's office, and was immediately followed by the sound of blinds closing. "It's safe now."
Cautiously, he poked his head around the doorway, quickly glancing around at the light level in the room. One arm slipped around the doorframe, pulling his torso around cautiously. 'Still not burning?.' He noticed absently, resisting the urge to stick a hand out and wiggle his fingers. 'Safe enough.'
Buffy watched all of this with much bemusement. "Still alive?" She asked drily.
"No." Angel replied candidly. "But, I'm used to being dead." Before the 'incident', he'd spent many hours in this room with Giles, beating out theories and going over prophecies with care, resolve and much speculation. Angel had watched Giles make his ritual pot of tea with each night he'd spent in this room. Without hesitation, he approached the tea-box sitting on a bookcase, and removed three bags of the Watcher's favorite brand of Earl Grey. "Got it."
Buffy nodded. "So, can we go now? I'd like to get back to the hospital."
Angel bent his head shooting her a glance from under long lashes. "Ah, if it's not a problem, I'd rather wait here until the sun sets." He jerked his head towards the window. "I've already singed myself once. It's not a habit I want to get into."
Buffy shrugged, slipping her backpack over her shoulders. "Ouch. I forgot." She grimaced. "I'll let Giles know you're coming, then." She quickly ran a hand through her hair. "I just want to get some time in sitting with Willow before visiting hours are up."
Angel nodded his understanding. This was hitting Buffy hard. Willow was her only true girlfriend in Sunnydale, and on a lot of levels, Buffy needed her. The Slayer was the loneliest person alive, according to tradition. The need for secrecy in her identity did not leave much space for friendship, love or family. Buffy's extraordinary success was credited as much to her prowess, or Giles' research, as it was to her friendship with Xander and Willow. It gave her grounding in the day-world, and a reason to keep fighting that Angel believed previous Slayer's lacked.
"Go." He encouraged her softly, letting her know he understood that her brave front and her ready smiles were all for show. "I'll be there as soon as the sun sets for my spell."
Buffy smiled, tossing a small wave as she left. Leaning back against Giles' scarred wooden desk, Angel waiting until he heard the main doors of the library shut. Straightening, he turned towards the walnut cabinet Giles kept tightly locked. "Right after I find all the ingredients needed."
* * *
Sarah Rosenberg must have been prescient, Giles thought setting his the horrid tea he'd found in the hospital cafeteria where it belonged - in the garbage. Nearly eighteen hours after she'd been admitted into the hospital Willow had settled into a coma. And, after over forty-eight hours since her spellcasting, she was still in the same condition.
"Awful stuff." He muttered aloud, still tasting the foul tea in the back of his mouth. Gingerly, he picked up Willow's laptop, balancing it precariously on his lap. "Why is it hospitals must ruin everything in a cafeteria?" He asked, staring down white screen in front of him.
"It keeps the doctors in business."
Giles hands slammed down on the edges of the laptop, barely preventing it from flying out of his lap when he jumped. "Buffy!"
The Slayer tossed a little wave, dropping herself down into the chair beside her bag. "You'll survive. Angel is bringing you the real stuff after sunset." Buffy murmured, carefully untying the buckles of her schoolbag.
"Real stuff?" Giles leaned back into his chair, once again staring at the electronic contraption that Willow so adored.
"Tea, Giles. Real tea." Buffy smirked. "I saw him at the school, before leaving. He's bringing you the nourishment you need."
The Watcher glanced at her, "Oh?" Bemusedly, he watched as Buffy extracted two textbooks and a notebook. Schoolwork and Buffy rarely mixed, but homework and Buffy? That was as improbable as the Hellmouth drying up on its own.
Logically he knew her apparent dedication to schoolwork was another way to avoid the situation at hand. Achieving success in academics seemed to take all of Buffy's concentration. If her mind was focused on concepts like Archimedes principle, she wasn't thinking about Willow.
Leaving for school the past two days had been difficult for the Slayer. She hadn't wanted to leave Willow's side, and while her mother had said she could stay if she wanted, Buffy knew it was asking for trouble. Snyder was just was just waiting for the opportunity to expel her, and since that would upset Willow, Buffy wasn't about to give him the chance.
"Yeah." Meticulously, Buffy opened her physics textbook to the page last worked on, folding back a rabbit-eared corner before looking up. "He was in the library grabbing some out of your stash. He said you were keeping watch for us all and the least he could do was thank you with some real tea."
Giles smiled softly, appreciating the implied gesture. "I'll have to thank him." It was still hard. Each time he saw Angel, he only saw Jenny's murderer. Still, the other man was trying to be courteous, staying away whenever possible, and being discreet when he couldn't stay away.
Lowering down the lid of the laptop, he watched Buffy with interest. This was perhaps the first time he'd been allowed the opportunity to study how she dealt with this type of stress. He only wished it was an opportunity that had never existed. "There's been no improvement." He informed his Slayer apologetically. "Willow is still breathing on her own, but there has been no return to consciousness."
"I know." Buffy sighed, her thumb flicking the tip of her pencil, pushing the nub of the eraser with the absent-minded goal of creating a projectile. "I called earlier."
Giles raised his eyebrow. "I see."
"Not that I didn't appreciate your regular every six hour report." Buffy continued nonchalantly. "But I felt I needed to hear the depressing 'no change' news with a bit more often. That way, when they say there's a change, it'll be a pleasant surprise."
Giles nodded. "Ah - I see."
"No you don't." Buffy shrugged, returning her attention to her textbook.
The Watcher shook his head, shifting the computer in his lap. The damnable thing was so warm, even when in this 'suspended' mode, or whatever it was that Willow called it. "You're right." He murmured, his mind still shuddering with the difficulty of comprehending this teenager. " I don't." Despite the distinct memories of his own adolescence, he doubted he had ever been as confusing as the children of today.
"Have you been in to see Willow, yet?" Buffy didn't look up from her schoolwork, she just asked the question blindly. At Giles prolonged silence, she began to toy with the corner page of her text, bending the edge back and forth.
Giles sighed, setting the computer down on the magazine covered table for the lounge area. "Yes, Buffy I did." He had spent the better part of two hours in with the Slayerette; two hours reading to her from that horrid Anne Rice book he'd often seen the girl reading. The theory being that being spoken to, or read to would encourage the subconscious mind to awaken the conscious. Giles wasn't sure if it would work in this case, given that the cause of Willow's condition was magical in nature, but he wasn't willing to discount it either.
Buffy dropped all pretence of interest in physics. "Do you think she'll wake up? Or --"
"I don't know, Buffy. I really don't. What Willow did had a terrible impact on her own body and mind." Giles sighed. He could only provide Buffy with conjecture, not fact. As expert as he was in the occult, the human mind continued to escape his understanding.
Quite calmly, Buffy shut her textbook, this time forgetting to mark her page. It really didn't matter. As long as Willow woke up, Buffy would learn what she needed in order to pass physics. "Meaning?"
"Meaning, it is possible her soul has fled her body." Giles picked at a loose thread on his trousers with his thumb. "I believe Willow was aware that the spell would kill her, and was willing to die. So she didn't resist."
Buffy rubbed her eyes. "You can't prove it though." She sighed, wishing Willow was with them, awake and alert. Giles' beliefs or theories were more up Willow's alley than Buffy's. Willow had always explained it in ways Buffy could understand.
"No." Giles dropped the thread into the nearby ashtray, noting the incongruity of a "No smoking" sign right above an ashtray. "I can't. And I hope I'm wrong."
"Wrong about what?" Oz's voice startled them both.
"DON'T DO THAT!" Buffy snapped. "I have this bad nervous condition, it's called urgent stakosa. Don't sneak up on me or I might stake you."
Oz blinked, taken aback by Buffy's vehemence. "I'm not a vampire."
"You're a werewolf. It's close enough." Buffy griped. "Just don't do it. I've had a bad couple of shocks in the last few days, and one more is likely to kill someone."
"Yeah." Oz muttered sadly, looking over to the door that barred his way to Willow's side. "I know." Sitting down, he ran hands through his messy red-gold hair. "So, you were saying something about Willow?"
Giles winced. "Ah, yes. The doctor's believe she won't regain consciousness until her mind believes the body and spirit are no longer in pain."
"It's my fault." The boy mumbled morosely, interrupting Giles. "She gave up because she didn't think she had a chance with me. I pushed her away, and now she won't come back."
"You can't blame yourself, Oz. The spell?." Buffy patted the seat beside her, dumping her schoolbag to the floor.
"Maybe. I don't know. I just feel like she's like this because of me." Oz rubbed his face. "I didn't even talk to her in the cave, you know. I knew that thing was going to kill us, and I didn't say a word. I just stayed quiet while Cordy said all the things I was thinking, only she said them worse. Willow didn't need that - and then she goes off and kills herself so that we can live. It sucks, you know."
"Oh, totally." Buffy said airily, shooting Giles a 'help me!' glance.
"Willow did what she felt was right." Giles interceded soothingly. "She wanted you and Cordelia to live, so she made it possible. Accept that gift, and move forward. Don't think about what she did, or what the price was. It won't help Willow, and it won't help you."
Oz was silent, first staring at Giles, and then his own blue fingernails. "Yeah. I guess." His clothing was mismatched, from his shirt to his shoes, a clear sign that the strain and his own emotions were getting to him. "I just wish I could make things right, you know. I miss her. I was missing her before this." He punctuated the 'this' with a nod towards Willow's hospital room. "And now I feel like I'm too late, and I'll always miss her. Like I've lost the only thing that really matters, for good."
Buffy's eyes softened, her own face reflected her emotions paralleled Oz's closely. "I know." She murmured, staring down at the pencil still in her fingers, noting that she was moving it between fingers with the same mannerisms in which she toyed with stakes.
"Me too." Cordelia surprised them all, her voice soft as she pushed away from Willow's hospital room. Behind her, the door closed gently. "I mean, I was so nasty to her. And I just wish I could say 'I'm sorry', and know that she heard me." Standing, and looking awkward, Cordelia rubbed at her arms. "I used to do horrible things to Willow. I was the worst for picking on her. And she never did anything bad back. Well, other than the deliver thing." Cordy chewed on her lower lip for a moment, before admitting the one thing that bothered her most. "Even with the Xander thing, she was a better friend to me than I've ever had before. She saved my life."
Buffy's lip twitched ominously, the effort needed to withhold her urge to grieve was increasing with each moment. "Did you tell her that?" She asked softly. "Maybe if she hears you?."
Cordy shook her head. "I couldn't." She whispered. "I just couldn't say a word. She looks so awful. There are all those wires, and tubes, and it's just - I couldn't say anything. It felt like if I did, I was saying goodbye."
Buffy rubbed her eyes with fisted hands, forcing back an urge to cry. "I don't know. Maybe it's what Willow needs to know before she can come back. Y'know, that we do want her back. Maybe if she hears that, she'll come back." Buffy looked at Giles beseechingly.
"It's possible." Giles conceded. "The doctor's said it has helped comatose patient's before." It felt uncomfortable, seeing the desperate hope rising in their eyes, but his own adult instincts, the ones that understood magic's price, did not willing fall under that same hopefulness. Still, hope was a powerful magic in its own right. 'And perhaps, that is what gives youth and innocence such power.'
Oz straightened, setting his eyes on Willow's door with resolve. "I'll go first."
* * *
Angel stood back and looked at the arrangements of candles one more time. It looked right, at least, it matched Giles' diagram of the layout. Gently, he set the orb on a piece of velvet in front of him, and took a deep, if unneeded breath. "I hope this works, Willow."
Lifting his hands in a gesture of benediction, he tossed a silent prayer to the Christian God, asking him for leniency. It wasn't often a demon tried to cast a spell for the purposes of good, after all. Especially since the spell was meant for another purpose altogether. If God was forgiving, though, perhaps He'd bend the rules, just this one time.
Closing his eyes, he centered himself, and then focussed on the candle. "Not dead... nor not of the living. Spirits of the interregnum, I call?."
The orb of Thesulah began a soft glow. Although the words had been used against the demon in him twice, they were also burned into his memory for all eternity. With great solemnity, and love for a friend lying in need of her spirit, Angel opened himself up to his past.
"Te implor, Doamne, nu ignora aceasta rugaminte.
Nici mort, nici al fiintei...
Lasa orbita sa fie vasul care-i va transporta, sufletul la el.
Asa sa fie! Asa sa fie! Acum!"
And, as it had twice before to Angel's knowledge and salvation, the Orb flared to existence, and then disappeared.
* * *
They had all taken their turn. First Oz, then Cordelia. Both had asked for permission to go first so that they could make their apologies and ask for Willow's forgiveness. Giles was used to waiting, so it had been no hardship for him. Buffy and Xander, however, had both found the waiting difficult.
It wasn't like this was guaranteed to work, Giles mused, and carefully opening up the dratted book to the page he'd last read. The best he hoped could come out of the teenagers' heartfelt confessions was that their own grief would be resolved. It was time for them to start healing, to look past what they hadn't done and remember what they had.
"Well, Willow?" He eased back into the chair beside her bed, glancing quickly at the pale still body that bore such a faint resemblance to the girl he knew. "Shall we continue?"
Of course, Willow didn't answer. "I know you can hear me, Willow." Giles paused, before reading, deciding that even as the children had offloaded their feelings, he needed much the same release. "I am terribly proud of you. I have never met a young woman with your selflessness, or courage. Please try to come back to us, Willow. I don't want to spend the rest of my life wondering what kind of woman you were going to be."
There wasn't even a flicker of motion in her face or body. Sighing, he turned back to the book. "Alright, where were we?"
"Huuuuuuuuuuu"
The book fell from nerveless fingers, as Giles jumped to Willow's side, the gasp of air spooking him. "Willow?"
Pale lips moved, and a raspy whisper followed, barely audible.
"Wait." Giles told her. "Don't say anything. Let me get a nurse!" He pressed the call button, knowing it would bring staff running.
"Uhh-Zzz." She rasped out. "Wha?."
Leaning close, he heard the door crack open, but didn't stray from his attentive position by Willow. She spoke again. "Ozz, Corrr-dy." It was clearly hard for her to speak. "O-kay?"
Oz pushed close to Willow's side, taking the position on the other side of the bed opposite Giles. "We're fine, Willow. We're okay. You saved us." Picking up one nearly translucent hand, he held it to his cheek, letting her feel the tears streaming down his face. "Don't leave me. Please, don't leave me."
Dark eyes cracked open, wincing at the bright light overhead. A soft whimper escaped.
Turning, Giles looked at the doorway, smiling to see all of Willow's friends clustered inside the room, despite the hospital's strict rules. With brightly relieved smiles amongst their tears, it was the sweetest homecoming he could have wished for the tiny Slayerette.
In a town filled with so much hell, it was a relief to see some miracles actually happen.
The End
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