Chapter Four

Gunned down

A/N So ep20 starts with Buffy being shot, which I know happens in 19 but I felt the way I ended 19 it was better to start 20 with this scene.

Sunnydale, the world without shrimp 2002.

Morning broke over Sunnydale in a passionate haze, the sun setting low over the horizon as Buffy stirred. Getting dressed, she popped some toast on and munched on the crumbs as she heard Xander stirring in the next room. He'd stayed the night after all, Buffy supposed. Not wanting to take his chances with a busted face in a town where blurry vision was never good when there was possibly a gang of demons behind you with every step. Buffy sighed, stepping out into the garden, her feet heavy in the mudding, dewy grass. Staring out into the dark wooden slats of the fence beyond the house, she felt oddly at peace with it all. That was never a good sign, the calm before the storm.

Picking up a stick, she began prodding at the bushes for more of the trio's little pranks. Hearing faint mushy footsteps behind her, she almost didn't turn, she knew who it would be. Pretending not to hear him she prodded the bush further, her face emphasising interest that just wasn't there. Her head moving in vast shapes and strange invigorations that would only be considered if one was performing some sort of visual dance interpretation.

"Time for the spring poking already?" He said, his voice sarcastic and baring. She didn't look at him, she couldn't look at him, could she? Maybe she could. After countless deliberations she decided on latter and turned to face him. He was wearing clean clothes for once, his usual style of shirts three sizes too big, his hands sliding effortlessly into his pockets as he stared at her. His bruised and bloody face was meaningful, soft brown eyes poking through all the turned aside jokes.

"Just making sure there are no more evil trio cameras." She said, brighter than her head had imagined but then, he was her best friend. She would have to forgive him eventually. "Or evil uno," she continued, her candid reply said slowly, with deeper meaning as a single eyebrow raised itself high into her forehead.

"The sinister, yet addictive card game?" His reply sounded, she would've laughed in different circumstances. Ok maybe not laughed, but a sizeable chuckle would've exited the Buffy brain. He was still making jokes, even now. Even when they all knew it was a coverup.

"Warren." She confirmed, her eyes not breaking from his as she explained what had happened the previous day. "Jonathon and Andrew got clinked, but Warren pulled a rocket man."

"You'll find him." And half-heartedly she believed him, they would find him, eventually after he flew away last night though, it was anyone's guess as to where he went next. "He won't be much good without his friends." Xander finished, it saddened her, the meaning of his words. Her eyes welled a little as she peered into him, finding the truth behind his eyes alarming. They weren't working as a team, and they needed to be to defeat Warren. But she would let him be the one to fix it.

"No, he won't." Buffy paused after that, taking a breath as she looked down, it hurt to even say the words. She could do this, biting her lip slightly she peered into the grass. They walked towards the bench, both noticing their shared need to talk. To resolve whatever tensions lay in the group. It had been proven time and time again, they needed each other to survive. To win.

They both sat into the bench at the same time, Xander spreading out his weight evenly, whilst Buffy remained reserved, holding her hands between her legs, hiding her body. She shuffled, fidgeted, this was uncomfortable for the both of them, but it needed doing. They needed fixing. Buffy remembering that mop-headed tall boy she'd walked into on her first day at Sunnydale. How much had come between them since that time, how much they'd endured despite all that. She also remembered the nervous, shuffly boy that had asked her out. It seemed like too long ago to even be him. He'd grown so much. She'd just shrivelled into her job, lost too much to care, it seemed.

Then they talked, voices mingled into soundless speech, they connected through their forgiveness. The apologetic tone appeased her slightly, a relief settling finally where nervous agitation had sat for so long. There was plenty of looking down, looking back, promises made to never leave each other friendless. Xander confessed his demon. Being alone.

"Let's not find out." Buffy said, her smile etched slowly between her lips as her eyes grew heavy with the weight of those words. It was a promise. A heartfelt apology and statement that they would never let the silly little things come between their friendship when the world was falling to pieces all around them.

He finally nodded his acceptance, his lip quivering as he held back single tears. She pulled him into a tight hug, holding the back of his head as his nose pressed into the smell of her jumper. It hadn't been washed in weeks, she realised, yet he still felt safe, he wanted to be wrapped against her, to be safe. She held him like his mother once had, like a little boy. He guessed he still was inside, that little boy waiting for his friends outside class.

"I love you." She'd said, her words a comfort to the both of them, as the belief flooded back to them. They believed in love, and love is what would bind them together. Then it was broken. His eyes opened because he'd heard something. Someone treading a steady way along the concrete. Then his mind stopped thinking.

He saw the gun first. Then his eyes glanced slowly upwards, finding the hand attached, then the black clothing, the jacket. Then a face. Familiar but unwanted. It was Warren. "Buffy." He'd cried, but it was only memory now, the image of him staining Xander's mind as he watched over her body in horror. He'd said something, but it wasn't important. Xander couldn't remember the order in which the words came out anyway, all he knew was that something had been spoken, far too fast, then she had fallen. He'd laughed. He remembered that, he had actually laughed when he'd done it, the bullet shredding through her shoulder as he'd fallen to the ground. Useless. Always useless.

She was lying now, eyes flickering in and out of consciousness and there was blood. So much blood. His palm pressed to her chest in some sort of attempt to stem the bleeding. His thoughts muffled as he cried out her name. Somewhere out of nowhere the ambulance came, he must have called them at some point. When, he didn't remember. He remembered the entire journey there, every bump in the otherwise even road. The blood on his shirt running downwards in the panic, staining his pants, dripping onto his shoes. Not that he cared. He would wash these clothes and them leave them ignored in the bottom of his drawer for years to come. Still stained. Even redder than that day. Buffy had told him it was stupid of course, told him to get over it, she'd survived after all, no need to hang onto that fateful day. Where no one had died but the almost was enough.

"Just my arm and a few cuts and scrapes; that's all he said Will, don't call anyone til the morning, there's no need to wake them up." Tara said quietly, her voice whispering to avoid the peery eyes of the woman in the cubicle next to her, who was here for her haemorrhoids again. Willow was sitting in the chair next to the overwhelmed hospital bed, Tara wasn't actually hooked up to any of it, she just sat neatly under the covers. After all why not get comfy if they had to stay the night. It was the same doctor they'd had after Glory had stolen Tara's mind the year before, he was nice, but wanted to keep her in overnight because of her history and 'how large a fall she'd had'. Willow had tried to think of excuses for how exactly Tara's injuries had come about because 'some guy kicked her across a cemetery in a magical fight' probably wasn't going to cut it. But Tara had interjected Willow's ramblings with a somewhat more plausible theory about tumbling down the stairs.

Willow was cupping Tara's hand, holding her fingers close to her chest as she moved closer. A worried look plastered across her face as she just stared up at her other half. Tara often noticed when Willow was anxious, she felt it before she saw it in most cases, the darker pink energy came off in waves. So she squeezed Willow's hand and made her look up and stop chewing at her lip. "Oi, you." She said poignantly, dropping her head a little and giving one of those trademark half smiles to mark the occasion. "Come here. Sit with me." She said pulling on Willow's fingers a little as she laced their hands tighter.

Willow got up from her seat, trying not to injure her further she slid herself onto the bed, positioning her body above the covers, letting Tara's heavy head lean onto her shoulder. Willow lightly kissing Tara's head as she snuggled into her love, their fingers fighting to be held.

"You know baby? At some point we're going to have to pick up all those clothes we abandoned on the floor in our room." Willow said softly, but when she looked down to check for Tara's answer and maybe the hope of a kiss, she noticed the blonde had fallen deeply asleep. Willow brushed the lose strand of hair behind Tara's ear before pressing a kiss to her forehead and then settling further into the bed, her eyes drooping before their eventual close. "I love you my darling, sleep well." She whispered into the long night, the ward doors squeaking as she fell further.

It was the squeaky wheels of the bed that woke them. Suddenly forcing their eyes open, Willow saw a flash of her best friends pain as the army of nurses and medical staff flooded the ER department. Peeling herself from Tara she grabbed Xander by the arm and gave his eyes a firm stare. Which broke immediately when she saw the fear in them, he had slight tear stains and then she noticed the blood covering his clothes. Pulling him towards her, she gave him a big bear hug, up on tippy-toes, wrapping her little body around his oversized one. Tara followed suit a couple seconds later, a questioning look in her eye. Xander detached from Willow, allowing her hand to fall back into Tara's unbandaged one. The three of them stared down into the hallway where they'd taken Buffy barely a minute ago. When Willow remembered everyone else.

"Someone should probably call Giles." She said quietly, making mental notes but still relaxing her palm into Tara's comfortable hand.

"Xander you stay we'll go home and find Dawn." Tara said quickly, Willow gave her a scared look, but she could see deep into Tara's eyes and knew she was right. However much she wanted to just go and bang on all the hospital doors, she knew someone had to be there for Dawn, if Buffy was going to die, they shouldn't leave her alone.