A few minutes later, Karen glanced down at the head of the young woman again pressing her face once more against the doctor's body. For the second time today, the Maine native comfortingly hugged the sobbing Slayer. When the tears finally turned into sniffles, Karen decided it was time to go onto the next step. Gently gripping and then shaking Buffy's shoulders to get her attention, the older woman pulled away. Buffy straightened up in her seat, to next fumblingly take the wad of tissues offered by the doctor from this therapist's jacket pocket.
Wiping at her damp face, Buffy then heard Karen telling her in a straightforward manner the following, "Buffy, what you're going to have to do for the next week will probably be the hardest thing you've ever done."
An expression of pure surprise abruptly passed over the California girl's face. This had been expected by Karen, though the doctor was truly ignorant of exactly how far off the mark she was in saying that. But then, the longest-surviving vampire slayer in mankind's history was still keeping secrets from her companion. Nevertheless, satisfied she'd made her point, Karen went on to deliver her regretful news.
"Brandon's about to enter the closing stages of his illness. Within the next couple of days - maybe a week, but probably no more than that - he'll start to succumb."
A shocked Buffy immediately protested, "But, he looks fine-" Hastily remembering her husband's emaciated appearance, she hurriedly corrected this into, "I mean, nothing's changed!"
Sighing, Karen told the other woman clutching at her handful of tissues, "That's because the symptoms aren't overt. However, Brandon's starting to experience greater amounts of aching and lassitude, which are the signs his body's beginning to shut down. That will culminate in even more pain which only morphine and other strong opiates will ease. He'll soon also start to feel completely exhausted, and will want to do nothing but stay in bed. Once that last part happens, it's only a few more days to the end."
Staring in horror at the composed doctor, Buffy tremblingly whispered, "Wh- what do I do?"
Compassionately regarding the aghast girl, Karen told her in an equally kind voice, "Above all, be there, no matter how hard it gets. And it will, particularly with the unpleasant details. I've got a morphine IV drip in my car, plus some other medical supplies. These will be set up by the hospice nurses, who'll come over-"
"No, I'll do it, everything."
At those unexpected words declared with absolute certainty by Buffy, it was Karen's turn to gaze in disbelief at the suddenly resolute younger woman. Thinking that her companion had no real idea of what she was getting into, Karen quickly attempted to explain, "Buffy, it takes actual medical training to provide the best possible care. Besides, that kind of work can get very, er, messy."
This last statement uttered by Karen produced from Buffy yet again something totally unforeseen by the doctor. The short, sardonic chuckle shortly issued by Buffy was accompanied by a rather strange expression on her face, seemingly nothing less than nostalgic bitterness.
Looking over at a dumbfounded Karen, Buffy next heaved a tremendous sigh of weariness, to then confide, "Karen, I told you about Sunnydale and the gangs there, remember? Well, me and my friends then, we set up a kind of neighborhood watch thing against those jerks. After a few brushes with them that sent a couple of us into the local ER, it seemed like a good idea to find out how to patch ourselves up. One of the doctors there who knew what we were doing, he showed us the more basic procedures, and I also volunteered as a candystriper at the hospital for a few months, picking it up for real. I learned how to bandage wounds, give shots, and do other nursing chores. It came in real handy over the years, even with me getting blood, puke, and other yucky stuff all over myself and my clothes lots of times. No, Karen, I'm not gonna be bothered by anything."
At the culmination of this speech, there was then a short silence between the pair of women, with these females steadily examining the other. Buffy bore Karen's thoughtful stare with equanimity. After all, apart from the whole 'gang' fabrication, her story was the complete truth. The Scooby Gang had of necessity often treated each others' minor injuries during their years together on the Hellmouth. This first aid had been done for what seemed to be good reasons at the time, usually because some of the more bizarre physical damage would've made even the most oblivious Sunnydale paramedic, nurse, or doctor wonder what the hell had inflicted those weird bites and claw marks.
Still, there'd always been some sort of unspoken recognition between the late-night staff at the local hospital and the increasingly-familiar teenagers and their older leader who'd regularly shown up there with more serious hurts needing genuine treatment by trained personnel. Nobody in the city hospital had ever come out and asked just what was going on, but during Buffy's second year at Sunnydale, she'd suggested to Giles and her friends at school during one library conference that they take advantage of this. Sure enough, without any kind of fuss or bother, Buffy and the other Scoobies soon got discreetly shown by a couple of tight-lipped people in white coats all sorts of methods for handling the ick factor which came with the fact of humans being basically walking bags of goop.
Eventually, Karen broke the room's quiet by remarking in a thoughtful tone, "That sounds good, Buffy, but there's a few things which have to be discussed first. You need to demonstrate your qualifications to us - that is, myself and the hospice caregivers. Also, about Brandon-"
"Oh, he already knows what I can do," interrupted Buffy, who earnestly went on at Karen's puzzled look, "A few weeks before we got married, Brandon cut his thumb making dinner at our apartment on campus. It was deep enough that I had to apply a dressing for it from our home medical kit, along with bandaging it in place. When we went to the college clinic to have it looked at, the nurse there said she couldn't have done it better herself. Afterwards, I told Brandon about learning first aid and the other stuff in Sunnydale, like I just did with you."
"That's good," nodded Karen. Clearing her throat, the doctor cautiously began all over again, "But, what I was about to say, Brandon will have to agree to this."
Buffy promptly deflated, mumbling a dismayed, "Oh."
Reaching across the sofa, Karen kindly patted Buffy's left knee several times. At the Slayer's surprise, Karen explained, "I'll be seeing Brandon later today as part of my regular counseling sessions with him. I'll bring it up, and with any luck, it won't be that hard to convince him to say yes to this. He knows I only want what's best for him, and once I tell Brandon I definitely think it's a good idea, he'll probably allow it. The fact is, he's already accepted you being here, so he might not be all that against you helping to take care of him."
Karen paused at seeing Buffy's eager face over hearing this potential good new. The older woman soon cautioned her listener, "Buffy, remember what I said before? You have to keep in mind, it's your responsibility not to bother Brandon. Be there and help him, but don't pester him. Plan ahead and set up things in advance to give him what he needs without Brandon having to ask."
Buffy obediently nodded at hearing all this, until Karen finished with, "Last of all is the most difficult part: don't ever let him see you cry."
"Huh?!" exclaimed a very startled Slayer.
Karen slowly shook her head. She told the other confused woman, "Doing that in front of Brandon, no matter how much you want to - and you will - just makes matters worse. Take a quick break outside, or go on a long walk when he's resting, and do your crying then. Most male terminal patients don't deal very well with tears, particularly from their family and other loved ones. In our society, they're used to keeping their emotions in check and being in control, enough to make them think they should still be macho even in the face of death. Yes, it's silly, but we've got to humor them."
Giving the stunned girl a pitying glance, Karen then gently added, "Honey, always keep in mind, you're doing it for him. And if you really need a shoulder to cry on, mine's always ready. I'll give you my cell number, and don't be afraid to use it anytime."
A moment later, the doctor was once more holding in her embracing arms a weeping Buffy. Patiently enduring her companion's latest emotional upheaval, Karen waited for the proper time to distract Buffy into other things. Fortunately, a topic from their recent conversation had actual promise to divert the grieving wife from her future bereavement. From all accounts, the impression Karen received during the younger woman's offhand comments about her time in Sunnydale was that for some reason, Buffy seemed to be divulging the qualified truth about this place while also leaving a great deal more unsaid. It was clear this girl had serious issues about her past life in that destroyed California city, and if Karen could help in any way, she'd willingly do this.
