Author's warning: This chapter contains references to suicidal behavior in some places. If you feel that this might set you off, please don't read, or skip over those parts.

I should also mention that I don't know much about Good Samaritan Hosptial, other than that it looks like a really nice place. Anything I write about it should be taken as a work of fiction, although I did some research . I don't even know if they have a psych ward. This is simply a setting for the story.

Green ooze dripped off of the ax's razor edge, plopping onto the floor.

"Is it dead?" Cordelia questioned.

Gunn walked over to the freshly decapitated demon, poked it with his shoe and then kicked the body. The severed head rolled away from the body, trailing green blood behind it. "Looks dead enough to me."

Angel let out a breath of relief and tossed aside the ax. "Good. That sucker put up a fight."

"Tell me about it," Cordelia snorted, following after Angel as he left the warehouse.

"Tone down the drama a notch?" Wesley frowned, picking up the messy ax. "We don't have an unlimited supply of these."

"And that's why they went out of style," Cordelia replied. "Some day we'll make them disposable."

"Why is the blood always green?" Angel grumbled, wiping at his hands.

"Maybe because monster movies really do have a root in truth?" Cordelia guessed.

"Possibly," Angel stood beside the manhole and took Cordelia's hand.

"Gosh, such a gentleman," Cordelia teased, finding the first rung on the internal ladder. "But does 'ladies first' really apply here?"

Nevertheless, Cordelia dropped into the sewers without further comment, flicking on her flashlight. Gunn came after her, Wesley following suit and then Angel climbed down and pulled the manhole cover back in place.

"So I'm going to be a security guard," Buffy finished happily.

Dawn rolled her eyes and went to refill her ice water.

"That's wonderful, Buffy," Giles nodded on the other line, motioning to the book Wesley was searching for.

"Yup, I guess so."

"I imagine that doesn't pay an extraordinary amount of money."

"No, not really. But it beats the hell out of the Doublemeat Palace, and I get a much better uniform. At least I'll be able to pay the bills."

"Yes, I suppose so. I'm glad to see you're coping with the material world well."

"Why shouldn't I be? I'm bound to survive or fail, and I'm not failing just yet."

"That's wonderful, Buffy."

Buffy made a face as she suspected that Giles wasn't listening anymore. "I'm mostly employed to bring the other guys doughnuts."

"Fantastic. No, not that one. Try the text on cross-dimensional portal phenomena."

"And…" Buffy sighed, listening to Wesley chatter in the background of the phone. "The uniform they gave me is really cute. Very low cut top… short skirt. You can see practically everything. They really loved it when I put it on."

"Mmhmm."

"And they were very nice to me when I did my sexy dance."

"…What?"

"A joke, Giles. You're not listening."

"I'm… sorry. Wesley is over and we were trying to find something. He believes I may have a certain text in my private collection…."

"Sounds great," Buffy muttered.

"Were you saying something about a… sexy dance?"

"A joke, Giles!" Buffy repeated quickly. "Anyway, I have to go. I've got homework to do. They gave me this handbook on proper protocol and stuff."

"I'll let you go, then. I'm quite busy as well."

"Don't wear Wesley out," Buffy teased before she hung up the phone.

"You have a handbook?" Dawn asked, flopping onto the couch with a bowl of chips. "Lame."

Buffy frowned. "Well it's – I have to know the basics, you know? Half of this will never apply to me."

"Sure it will. You've been recruited to the Dork Patrol."

"It's not a Dork Patrol. At the most I'll have to watch out for some unruly psych ward escapee, or maybe some guy who comes in with a gun to demand health care. Today was super boring. Mostly, I just sat at the desks in the main office and then the chief showed me the surveillance room and outlined my duties. They're going to give me a chance to secure a license before they give me a uniform. I get to take another CPR class and learn how to properly arrest someone."

"That sounds fun."

"Yup. And if I go for another license I get to carry a gun, or beat people with a baton," Buffy beamed. "It's good to be me."

"I thought you didn't believe in guns," Dawn gave her sister a skeptical look.

"I don't. But a big stick? Hell yeah!"

"What does it take to get a permit for that?"

"I'm not sure, but until then I'm just fine being unarmed. It shouldn't take me too long to get a paycheck."

"Hey, that's great. At least you're having fun with it."

"Yup. Some of those guys were really nice, too. They're all way older than me and they kind of think I'm over my head about this."

Dawn laughed aloud. "Yeah. She who has saved the world more times than I'll ever know can't handle a job as a security guard. You were born for it."

"I'm not sure if that is a compliment, but thanks for the thought," Buffy pushed aside Dawn's feet and sat down on the couch with her sister. "Did you finish all of your homework?"

"Are you going to beat me up if I didn't?"

"Maybe."

Dawn sighed. "I'll go do it."

"There's my busy beaver. Get me some more chips, while you're up."


doctor g says i have to start writing things in braille.

i think this sucks.

he says he wont read it.

good.

he says that this is just so i can see my improvements.

im not stupid.

i know i cant write good when i dont know all the letters and things yet.

he says just try anyways.

so i did.

"I just get upset when I think everyone's against me," Valerie finished, wiping her eyes with a tissue. She was no longer sniveling, but her eyes were still damp.

"No one is against you," the group leader assured her, trying to sound sincere. "We're all just here to help, and to heal. Is there anyone else who can relate to Valerie? No? Alright. Would anyone like to go next?"

Blank faces stared back at her, some too disinterested to even look at the other group members. The room was a little cold, and it didn't help that they were all sitting on folding metal chairs in the middle of a tiled floor. The only thing that offered a bit of protection against the chill were the thin hospital slippers and the soft pajama-style hospital clothes.

"Galen?" her gaze fell on him, as unsettling as the unnatural orange color of her hair. "I know that you still haven't participated."

Galen was void of expression, hidden behind black sunglasses. Underneath them, he was trying to imagine the outside world again. His mind's eye had been picturing tall trees, colored with autumn. The image dissipated when the nurse called his name.

"I don't like getting touchy-feely."

"Those are ugly words, Galen. Everyone here can safely express their feelings. This isn't for hating, this is for understanding. Fear will cripple your progress."

"I only talk to Dr. Grier," Galen said, ignoring her deceptively flowing words.

"Nurse Reids," Sarah's timid voice spoke up. She was a very slender girl with pale skin and stringy, raven-colored hair that made her look unhealthy. Galen didn't know precisely what she looked like, but he could recognize her hesitant voice anywhere. He acted somewhat of a protective older brother for her - an instinct, he swore, but she couldn't be swayed from feeling special. He didn't work any harder at convincing her she wasn't.

"Galen isn't here for the same reasons we are," Sarah said, reminding everyone of their self-destructive tendencies. "He shouldn't be forced to participate in the group."

Galen liked that girl a lot. She didn't mind letting him hold onto her hand - didn't see it as a weakness. She helped him if he needed it, without question or pity or any unnecessary crap. She hadn't flinched when he felt the scars on the inside of her wrist, had even explained to him that she was in the hospital for 'loosing it' with a box cutter.

"Thank you, Sarah. But Galen is here with us, and as part of the group, he has to participate. Maybe he doesn't have the same issues as the rest of the group, but he still has problems that he needs to talk about." Nurse Reids looked at Galen directly while she spoke; he certainly felt the stare, could hear her words coming directly at him. "How did your eye surgery go?"

Galen tensed, immediately angry by the casual mention of the surgery. They knew that he obviously wasn't any better than before. Nurse Reids was just being a bitch to him, because he hated group therapy. But he refused to show emotion.

"They cut my eyes open, poked around for a bit and did absolutely jack to help," he answered curtly. "How was your hysterectomy?"

"I don't see how you can read that stuff," Willow sighed, watching Kennedy pour over a new book.

"I find the dramatic romance hysterical," Kennedy replied. "But the gushy love scenes can be hot. I was planning on mocking them, and acting them out with you."

"Oh?" Willow raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Kennedy grinned mischievously. "Like this scene here. Where the main character seduces the beautiful maiden."

"And how does your main character go about doing that?" Willow asked innocently.

Kennedy set down the cruddy romance book and pinned her girlfriend against the kitchen counter. "Well, she finds the innocent little maiden and decides to be bad and kiss her senseless while they were all alone in the big empty house."

Willow shivered under Kennedy's lips. "Did she take the innocent little witch to the bedroom and have her wicked way with her?"

"Goodness, no!" Kennedy cried, some mockery in her voice. "Romance novels don't do that sort of thing. Those are the naughty, dirty books that are only sold in certain stores."

Willow wished she had a wall to bash her head against. "What would they do in these types of books?"

"I don't know, I haven't read one," Kennedy teased wickedly, letting up when it looked like Willow was going to throttle her. "But I'm betting that it would involve a bottle of chocolate syrup, some silk scarves, and a lot of lacking in the clothes department."

"Show me?" Willow challenged with a coy smile.

"Bacon, lettuce, tomato for Gunn," Fred said, setting out the lunch for the gang. "Salad for Cordy. Thai for Lorne. Here ya go."

"Thanks, Fredikins."

"You're welcome, kind sir. Ham Italian for Wesley," Fred gave Wesley his sandwich, both exchanging shy smiles.

"And tacos for me!" Fred finished happily, setting her Taco Bell bag in front of her.

"Girl eats a boatload of tacos," Gunn muttered, watching Fred eagerly open the bag and start to devour the first taco, laughing nervously when she got sauce and tomatoes all over the table.

"At least she's talking to us now," Angel reminded Gunn, watching Fred and wondering how she could eat the greasy food. He felt sick just watching her, but she made anything look cute. He sipped at the blood in his coffee mug thoughtfully.

"Welcome to the Good Samaritan Hospital."

Buffy's eyes boggled slightly, staring at the nurse in vivid purple scrubs. The girl was smiling sweetly… and the lobby was very nice looking.

"Buffy," the chief of security spotted her, an elder gentleman with graying hair. His badge said, "Braham, R." He wore his uniform in its entirety; Buffy only had a shirt and slacks from the uniform, since they didn't want her to look like a security guard until she was a real one.

"Hello," Buffy smiled, shaking his hand.

"This is Charlene Linden," he said, indicated the nurse in purple scrubs. "Charlene, this is Buffy Summers. Buffy is going to be training to become a security guard here at Good Sam."

"Nice to meet you," Charlene smiled sweetly, with freckled cheeks.

Buffy smiled nervously in return. "Sorry, I'm just a bit… Hospitals aren't my thing. But I can get over it-"

"I understand," Braham assured her. "Lots of people are afraid of hospitals. Bad experience?"

"You could say that," Buffy shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, you can feel right at home at Good Sam," Charlene spoke up. "This is one of the best hospitals you'll find anywhere. We're at the very front of the pack with most of the medical fields, which isn't to say that the our other specializations aren't outstanding as well."

Buffy laughed politely with her, still nervous.

"You'll get used to it, soon," Braham told Buffy. "Good Sam is a very wonderful place to work. The employee services alone are to die for. Let me show you around the floor, then we'll let you live out the day of a security guard. How far are along with getting those licenses?"

"I'm doing very well in the class," Buffy said, walking down the hell with Braham, while Charlene went back to her duties. "Uh, I'll have all the right qualifications in no time. And did I ever mention how grateful I am that you're giving me this opportunity?"

Braham chuckled. "Only about twenty times. And truth is, we're a bit low right now. We just lost a few of our old employees - retirement, and a career change. It's nice to see some fresh blood around here. I like to encourage the younger generation, if they find something they like and are willing to work at it."

"I'm totally willing to work at it," Buffy smiled. "I'm a - a busy little worker bee."

"Uh-huh. Down this way, we've got the cardiology unit. One of four, actually. Good Sam is pleased to have one of the finest cardiology departments in the nation."

"You better stay away from Josh, you little slut."

Dawn stared at the nappy-haired girl who wouldn't leave her alone. "For the last time, I don't even know the guy."

"That's not what Christina Ryan said."

"Look, Monica, I really don't know who this Josh guy is," Dawn said to her. "And I don't care what Christina said - I haven't been checking out any guys since I moved here."

Monica gave Dawn a once-over and made a disgusted face. "You better not. I don't wanna see you anywhere near my man. Lesbian."

Dawn sighed deeply, shifting her backpack on her shoulder while she waited for Giles to come pick her up. "Maybe I should just become a lesbian."

Willow was startled when Dawn came home unexpectedly. Unexpectedly? It was three in the afternoon. Crap!

"Hi, Wills," Dawn said, dropping her backpack on the couch.

"Uh… uh… hi Dawnie," Willow stammered nervously. "Did, uh, Giles pick you up alright?"

"Yeah," Dawn said slowly, staring at Willow. Willow flinched, smiled nervously and very inconspicuously tried to cover up the hickies on her neck.

"Uh… Kennedy was taking a nap, so I…. There's food in the fridge."

Dawn continued to stare as Willow practically bolted to the bedroom. She finally shook her head and went to get a soda from the small kitchen. LA sure as hell wasn't Sunnydale. She couldn't take a stake to school with her, so Buffy made sure that she knew how to make a pencil lethal.

"Hi, Dawn," Kennedy said when she came back. Willow still looked skittish, but Kennedy didn't care that she looked how she felt - sexed up and satisfied.

"You guys have fun with your midday hanky-panky?" Dawn asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I- " Willow laughed nervously, "We didn't…"

"We got a little rough," Kennedy replied blandly.

"Kennedy," Willow whined helplessly. "Dawn's only sixteen for pete's sake."

"Seventeen next month," Dawn said. "And I should be driving myself to school."

"Cars are expensive to run," Kennedy said. "You could be catching the bus."

"The horrors of high school," Dawn shuddered.

"Giles is pretty cool for an old guy."

"My friends don't see it that way," Dawn sighed. "I'm already some sot of dweeb. It's better than being accused of being a slut, I guess."

"A slut? Dawnie…."

"I haven't even made eyes with any of the guys here!" Dawn laughed bitterly. "It's all just Monica and that bitch Christina. If they were vampires, oohhhh boy. Maybe their succubae."

"I'll pierce your lip for you," Kennedy offered. "Do up your nose and your ears, too. It'll be sore for a while, but it'll easily get you into the 'outsider' or 'goth' crowd."

"You'd do that for me?"

"Sure. I'll just do it right down at the shop."

"No!" Willow cried. "No piercing a-anything. Kennedy, we promised when you got that job - Buffy no punching holes in Dawn."

"If I can convince Buffy?" Dawn questioned.

"I… don't drag me into this," Willow begged. "You're fine the way you are."

"I think Kennedy's right, though. I need to dislodge myself from the mainstream society. If I start wearing just enough black and strip all of the frilly stuff out of my wardrobe, I'll be set. Let's face it; I'm not much of a girly girl. Not anymore," Dawn shuddered.

"Slayers kick ass," Kennedy shrugged, starting to rummage for a post-nookie snack.

"How is it for you guys?" Dawn asked. "I mean, being with girls? Better than guys?"

"Much better," Kennedy answered quickly. "Guys always want to be on top."

Willow was blushing. "I don't think we should be discussing this kind of thing. Why do you ask, Dawnie?"

"You used to date Oz," Dawn pointed out.

"Oz was a good guy," Willow hedged. "He was sweet and thoughtful. Not very much like the male population in general, come to think of it. But Tara was also sweet and thoughtful. And Kennedy has been known to be sweet… and caring."

"I'll always look after my witchy Willow," Kennedy promised.

Willow smiled. "Why do you ask, Dawn?"

Dawn shrugged. "I just think that Monica won't be such a bitch if she knows I'm not interested in guys period. But then she might freak out and start telling me to stop staring at her chest or something. And can I say 'yuck?'"

"Dawn, I don't think that changing your… your romantic interests is the way to handle a bully," Willow said. "And are you really interested in girls? And hey! You should be romancing your textbook, n-not any boys… or girls…. Just say no."

"I don't know what I'm interested in," Dawn sighed. "But the guys surely aren't doing much enticing."

"You should be discussing this with Buffy," Willow said. "I really don't think that this is appropriate for us to talk about."

"Don't decide anything," Kennedy suggested. "Just be yourself. Willow and I have both dated guys before, but we settled on each other, because we know we like each other. Just follow your heart and date whoever the hell makes you the happiest girl in the world. I'll back you up."

"Thanks," Dawn smiled. "Hey, could you pierce my lip anyway?"

"Er, sorry kiddo," Kennedy gave her a look. "You're going to need parent or guardian permission."

"The medication they put me on once made me nauseous, too," Sarah said. She let Galen hold her arm while they walked. He didn't use the cane, partly because he hated it, and partly because her trusted her enough not to bother. She liked being near him; he was nice to her and didn't mind when she started to chatter. In fact, she was pretty sure he liked the chatter. He told her once that silence gave him anxiety, so she made sure that things were never silent for too long.

"Sometimes doctors don't look into the other medications, so they don't really know how a new pill is going to react with different pills," Sarah explained. "I gained a lot of weight on one pill before they finally took me off of it. Not that you'd notice now; I'm as skinny as a twig, or so they say. The medicine merry-go-round is always fun. Some pills make you hallucinate like bad - which might be fun for you, since you can't see. Except it's not fun to see a floor of writhing mice, either. Other medication will completely fuck up your moods."

"Sarah," a nurse scolded lightly as she passed by. "Don't use that sort of language."

"Sorry," Sarah smiled sheepishly. "I'm just taking Galen for a walk."

"That's nice of you," the nurse said, and then continued on.

"Most of the nurses here are really good," Sarah told Galen. "I've been here before, a few times."

"So have I."

"Their nurses are pretty sweet, in general. Last time I was here, being treated for O.D., they weren't so… I think 'tough love' is the word."

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"O.D."

"The suicide attempts?" Sarah kept her voice very hushed, because talking about things like that in the psych ward was worse than swearing. There were too many patients who could be set off with that kind of conversation. She led Galen to a more secluded part of the hall, where they could sit at the window.

"I don't know," Sarah said, brushing her long black hair over her shoulder. "Things aren't so great, you know? I can't handle a normal job because I'll freak out, and I can't keep a relationship because guys don't want a mental chick. It's bad enough that I'm not so pretty, but they blame me for how I feel. I don't know why I do it. When I'm cutting myself to death or swallowing pills, it's because I just don't care.

His hand squeezed hers and she squeezed back hesitantly.

"Don't do that anymore. Promise me…. I like you. If you ever kill yourself, I'll hate you."

"I like you, too," Sarah told him, feeling a bit teary but not letting any drops fall. "You get it. I've seen you. You know what it's like, when nothing makes any sense."

"Don't hurt yourself anymore. Please."

"I won't. I promise."

Stop. Please gimme some love. Thank you. Read on.