__"Willow Will Be Here With You"__
By Beadtific



Willow stood in the doorway, letting her eyes adjust from the afternoon sunshine to the dimness of Giles' sickroom. The 'hospital cottage' was sort of a hybrid – a cozy living space that happened to have all the modern conveniences of a hospital. A guest-house with IV drips and hospital beds. The coven evidently had made provisions for physical as well as mystical illnesses. She was sure that despite the cozy surroundings, the slayer's hospital phobia was still in effect.

If Buffy heard Willow come in, she made no indication of it. Willow’s heart broke a little as she looked at her friends from the doorway. She’d seen both of them ill or in the hospital before, but Buffy had never looked this lost, nor Giles this… vacant. His eyes were covered with gauze pads, giving him an eerie Little Orphan Annie blankness, and reminding Willow all too much of Xander's bandage when he lost his eye.

Buffy’s hair hung unwashed and limp in a messy ponytail, her face was wan and her figure was swimming in what looked to be Giles’ gray sweater. The blond had wiggled her way into Giles’ bed, slightly above him, her arms around his shoulders and her cheek pressed to the top of his head. Her eyes were closed in deep concentration and she hummed a soothing little song as she rocked him gently back and forth.

“Hey,” Willow whispered cheerfully. It seemed wrong in this dim room, to speak in a normal voice. “That’s Dawnie’s song.”

Buffy jerked and looked at her red haired friend with a mixture of surprise, relief and affront. “Does *everyone* know about Dawn’s lullaby?”

“Well, yeah,” the young witch said gently, moving slowly into the room, and giving her friend a warm, if a little nervous-around-the-edges smile. She was kicking herself internally for bringing it up and saying – Anya like – the first thing that popped into her head. “Um, after you were…gone? Sometimes, ah, Tara and I would go to her after she had a bad dream. After a while we’d just pile on in, hold her and hum to her until she went back to sleep; it turned into kind of a family thing.” Buffy’s eyes filled with tears.

“Thanks for that, Will,” she said huskily, “And thanks for being here.”

“Wouldn’t be anywhere else.” Willow walked to Buffy’s side of the bed and gave her an awkward, over-the-bed-rail hug. “We’re going to figure this out.”

Buffy gave her a tremble-y smile. “I miss him.” Her voice caught.

“I know, sweetie.” Willow brushed a lank strand of hair off her friend’s forehead.

Buffy looked at her with a rueful half-smile. “You know what? Evidently, I call him ‘“Rupert, sweetie,’ when I’m irritated.”

“He’s lucky; there’s a whole lot worse you could call him.”

Buffy gave an affirmative snort. “Yeah.” She looked down at her still lover and sniffled a little. “He won’t wake up, Will. They say that his brain functions are all normal, all systems are go and all, but he just won’t wake up.” A lonely tear streaked down her face and she sniffed again, wiping a careless hand under her nose. Willow handed her a tissue from the bedside table, noting that her friend had red, chapped places under her eyes. It took a lot of crying for to get chapped eyes, Willow unfortunately knew from experience-- even more if a person had slayer healing. The blonde took the tissue with an apologetic look, blew her nose and dabbed wincingly at her eyes.

“I know, Buff. I got kind of a briefing on how he was doing on the way from the house.” The two women sat in silence a moment, looking at their stricken friend. Willow took a few sneaky looks at Buffy and decided it was time to take charge a little.

She stirred and put a hand on her friend’s arm. “I want to talk about this with you, Buffy, and I need you to be as tip-top as you can be so we can figure out how to get Giles back. I’m betting you haven’t eaten much recently.” Buffy blankly at her friend. “Okay, long enough that you can’t remember. So, it’s shower and snackies time for you, missy.” Willow pointed in the direction of the cottage bath, directly across from Giles’ bed. Buffy looked a little overwhelmed, and kind of panicky.

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay with him, right here, every minute.”

“Okay,” she breathed, and carefully crawled off the bed. Once on the floor, she turned around and took Giles’ hand, tracing lightly over his knuckles with her thumb. “It doesn't feel right, anymore,” she said in a shaking whisper. "Not to have him with me. I know that sounds kind of silly."

“I can only imagine, and I don't think it's silly at all. You shared a lot in a few days; it's gotta feel weird to have it gone.”

Buffy gave her a shrewd look. “You *were* there in the dream. With the First Slayer.”

“Yeah, I was, and that’s what we’re going to talk about.”

“After the shower,” Buffy sounded a little impatient.

Willow pointed to her face. It was resolved.

“Okay, and a snack,” Buffy huffed. Willow was thrilled to see some of her friend’s spark surface.

Willow looked around the room for a phone. “So, where can I call room service?” Buffy pointed to a door on the opposite side of Giles’ bed.

“The nurse’s station thingy’s in there.”

“Okay, I’m going to make a call for some food and some clean clothes for you. Anything else?”

“Um, yeah, clean clothes,” Buffy said, absently. “Angela brought some yesterday,” Buffy looked around the room until her eyes rested on a closet door; she gazed at it as if noticing it for the first time. Willow walked over and found a set of Buffy’s yoga pants, a tank top and some clean underwear on the top of the bureau inside.”

“And I think that they brought my makeup bag and stuff when I wouldn’t leave.”

Willow peeked in the bathroom and nodded. She disappeared a moment and came back without the clothes. “Okay, your brand-new clean clothes are waiting for you, as is your makeup-and-shampoo bag, and when you’re all clean and sparkly, we’ll have you some grub. If I remember correctly it’s not grubby at all, but more like extra yummy. Just give me a moment to call for take out.” Buffy gave her a wan smile of thanks, and the redhead scuttled off to make the call.

Once beyond the door, Willow covered her eyes with her hands and took a few deep, shaky breaths. “Goddess give me strength, and strength to my friends.”

She took one more breath and peeked over the tips of her fingers, looking for the phone.

* * * * *

Walking back into the room, Willow found Buffy taking the gauze pads off Giles' eyes. The redhead was surprised to see the man’s eyes were partially open, and she couldn’t help but gasp. Buffy looked up and gave her friend a flat little smile. “He’s not awake. Angela tells me it’s sorta the default eye position. That’s why the gauze, and these drops; so his eyes don’t dry out.”

She leaned over and squirted the drops in her lover’s eyes, carefully wiped the excess, kissed him on the forehead and taped new, clean pads in place. “I’m going to take a shower, Rupert,” she whispered. “Willow’s going to be here with you.” Buffy stood and held his hand in both of hers, clasping it to her chest. She stood there a long time, just gazing at his face.

When Buffy began to hum, Willow realized with a jolt that her friend had forgotten entirely about the shower, and had slipped back into her little world that was just the two of them. She walked over and placed her hand on her friend’s arm. “I’ve got it, Buff,” Willow said softly, “Go take a shower, now.”

Buffy inhaled deeply as if waking from sleep. She turned and smiled apologetically at her friend. “Sorry,” she whispered. “Went to crazy Buffyland there for a moment.”

“No big; go get clean.”

Buffy kissed Giles’ hand and put it down carefully on top of his blanket. She listlessly took a few steps towards the bathroom. Turning, she said, “He likes it if you sing to him. Sometimes I think he…dreams, or is maybe scared, and his blood pressure and heart rate go up.” Buffy nodded towards a digital monitor next to the bed. “He quiets down if you hum the lullaby. Angela said it was good medicine.”

Willow joked weakly, “You think my singing would quiet him down? I could totally make it worse.”

Buffy snorted with amusement. “Just as long as you hum and don’t sing *out loud, * everybody is safe.” She turned and walked a few more steps. “Hey,” she said, turning around and putting her hands on her hips. “If Dawnie’s lullaby became this family thing, how come nobody sung it to me?” She was teasing, but Willow could see the hurt behind her eyes, and felt her own prickle with tears.

“Dawnie did.”

Buffy stood there, straining to remember, and looked at Willow in confusion and a little desperation that she would have forgotten that kind of sistery bonding. The redhead gave her a sweet smile, and swallowed past the lump in her throat.

“You had nightmares too, Buff, when you first came back, and tried to hide it. You started locking your door, and playing that ocean CD all night long. A couple of times I found Dawnie sitting on the floor by your door. She said she’d heard you crying. She’d sit there until you stopped or she fell asleep, humming for you. See? Family thing.”

Buffy choked back a few sobs and shook her head in wonder. “That little spaz,” she scoffed affectionately with a brilliant, if teary smile.

“The spazziest.” They smiled at each other a moment.

“Do she and Xander…”

“Yes. They’re coming. We’ll know when soon.”

Buffy nodded a few times, and shuffled a few more steps. She made it as far as the bathroom that time, before a nervous thought struck her, “You’ll call me?”

“I will.”

“If anything…”

“I will.”

Tears threatened to fall again as Buffy stood rubbing her fist over the center of her chest and wrapped her other arm around herself for comfort. “We weren’t Bonded - not that long - but it really hurts.” Chin trembling, she gave her friend a desperate look, and Willow finally understood how reluctant Buffy was to even be one room away from Giles. And that Buffy might be even more of a patient than they'd originally thought.

“Why don’t you leave the door open?”

“Okay,” she whispered, relieved, and smiled a shaky smile. “I do kind of love you, you know.”

Willow gave her a smart little nod, “I kinda do. Love you, too.” She shooed Buffy with her hand, and the blonde raised hers in surrender.

“All right, all right.” With one last look at Giles, Buffy disappeared into the bathroom.

Willow let out a long, quiet breath, releasing some tension. She looked down at the strong man lying silently on the bed. Running her eyes over the monitors, the IV bag, the funny little blood pressure thing on his finger, Willow let herself have a private moment of grief. It just wasn’t fair. She felt the familiar rush of tears to her eyes, and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Hi, Giles,” she whispered, taking his unresponsive hand in hers. “It’s Willow.”

* * * * *

Buffy came out of the bathroom, swathed again in the gray sweater, but looking cleaner and a bit more like herself. The Food Angels had come and left an array of tempting treats; chicken soup with fat noodles, fresh-baked crusty rolls, a few wedges of cheese, some pears, a bowl of yogurt topped with fresh raspberries and two chocolate truffles the size of small plums. Giles’ over-the-bed hospital table had been moved from its place at the foot of his bed and adjusted down in height; a second chair had been brought in for Willow. Given Buffy’s reluctance to leave for the shower, Willow didn’t think she could get her on the porch or in the small sitting room next door to eat. She'd also been glad that Angela had taken a moment to say hello, look Giles over, and pronouncing ruefully quite well other than persistent unconsciousness, promised she'd give them as much privacy as possible. Willow smiled as Angela left through one door and Buffy entered through another.

“Wow, Will, that’s some snack.”

Willow giggled, “Yeah, I just said, you know, soup and a sandwich, or whatever, (added comma) and they asked me what kind of fruit you like, and well, I guess it sorta just mushroomed.” Buffy gave her an alarmed look. “No, no! No actual mushrooms! I checked.” Buffy let out a sigh of relief, looked over at Giles and then shyly at Willow.

“Can I have…” she started, and Willow leapt out of her chair.

“Oh gosh, here, Giles nearness!” The redhead squeezed around the table to give her friend access.

Buffy edged herself up to Giles shoulder, running a hand up his leg and then his arm. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Hi honey, I’m home,” she whispered in his ear. “Willow and I are here, and we’re going to have a snack and talk about helping you wake up.” She kissed him again and turned to the table.

“So, can I start with the chocolate?”

“No, m’am, you cannot. Soup first.”

“Ugh,” Buffy shuddered, “Don’t say ‘m’am,’ it reminds me of *Miss* Harkness.”

Willow grimaced. “She pulled the ole school marm routine on ya, huh?”

“Giles called it her ‘Headmistress of Pain’ act.”

Willow giggled with a mouthful of soup and accidentally snorted some up her nose. She wiped her nose and took a peek at her napkin. “Ooh good, no noodles,” she said, whimsically, and Buffy choked a little on her own soup. They giggled madly and far more than necessary, letting out emotions that might otherwise end tears. This was made even harder by the instinct that laughing loudly would somehow disturb Giles, and trying to shush each other only produced more hysteria.

"Okay, that's just wrong," Buffy finally wheezed, pointing a threatening soupspoon at her friend. "Stop or suffer the consequences."

The witch put her hands up in surrender. “This is a snort-free zone,” she said solemnly. They shook on it, and Buffy stole Willow’s roll. The redhead pouted. They both looked over a little guiltily at Giles. He was as passive and inert as ever. They both sighed, and catching each other at it, shared a rueful look.

“Remember when Anya made Xander snort hot fudge out his nose?” Buffy asked, giving half Willow's roll back, with butter interest.

Willow grinned a slightly evil grin. “One of his *so* not finest hours.”

“Even Giles laughed hard,” Buffy’s smile was painful around the edges. “It was so cool.”

“He has a very un-tweedy giggle.”

“Mm-hmm,” Buffy agreed suggestively and Willow blushed. The both looked again at the silent man, feeling a little like they were being caught gossiping. Buffy’s face was red when she turned back to her friend. “I’m going to have to tell you pretty much everything, aren’t I? About us.”

“Maybe Buff, 'cause of the whole sex thing. I hope you can keep some private stuff… private. But I will need to know more about what happened so we can figure it out.”

Her temporarily buoyant mood drained out of her, and Buffy’s shoulders slumped. “Jeez. I have to have one of the most embarrassing sex lives ever. Where do you want me to start?”

“First I want you to finish that soup and eat a cup of yogurt. And fruit.”

“Slave driver.”

Willow simply pointed to her face again. Buffy rolled her eyes.

But she ate, silently admitting that it did make her feel a little more in touch with reality and a lot less lightheaded. She rubbed her chest absently, and glanced over at Giles as she took a sip of water. As she continued her meal, Buffy unconsciously reached over and touched him several times.

Willow didn't miss either gesture. She wondered about Buffy’s new habit of rubbing the center of her chest. Was the pain physical or psychological? Or mystical? Maybe she should start her questions from the end rather than the beginning.

* * *