Disclaimer: Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, and Angel are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and the WB. Not mine, please don't sue.
Chapter 8: Introspection
Lindsey watched his intended pace back and forth across the waiting room floor. Her bright red hair bounced around her face as she moved, and ordinarily he would have been entranced by it, but not today. She was hurting, and there was nothing he could do about it. Granted, he and Angel were not the best of friends. At most, they held a grudging respect for each other. He wasn't sure if Angel deserved this. He hoped that one day his own retribution for evil deeds would be far less painful, far less demanding of him. It was selfish, and he knew it.
Lindsey knew that he hadn't always been the good guy, and it had taken a possessed hand to show him the light. He eyed his donated limb as he remembered. Willow had helped him, after they'd first met. He'd explained the situation one night at the Magic Box, and she was able to give him several ways to keep his hand's urges under control.
Angel hadn't always been a good guy either and he supposed that was what had led to the small amount of respect they granted each other. That and the influence of Buffy and Willow. The two women were so close, they were family. That meant that he and Angel had to play nice, put up with each other. Deep down, Lindsey would almost admit he liked the guy. After all, Angel had gotten his humanity just long enough to turn around and be faced with the possibility of losing another child. He was glad it was Angel and not him, as guilty as that made him feel.
Willow finally stopped her pacing, and settled next to Lindsey on the lumpy couch. She'd lost count of the number of times she'd sat in this waiting room, waiting for the diagnosis of one of her friends. Waiting to hear whether someone she loved had lived or died. In some cases, she hadn't even known the person, but had come across them on patrol with Buffy, and ended up with hospital detail. You'd think that the hospital staff would have a file with my name on it flagged or something, she thought wryly, for as often as she inhabited this waiting room. Alas, or maybe luckily, the hospital stuff of Sunnydale were about as naive as the police.
Sighing, she fiddled with her engagement ring. Willow remembered the night that Lindsey had proposed like it was yesterday. She knew that it would be something she would never forget. She'd come home from work, and the house had been dark, except for a few well placed candles. Lindsey had been standing in her living room, and she hadn't known what to make of the situation at first.
"Lindsey? What's going on?" Willow asked, setting her stuff down on the sofa. He reached out and took her hand, smiling softly.
"I got you something. Come sit down." He urged, pulling her to the armchair he was standing near. She sat, and stared up at him wordlessly. He seemed different. She couldn't put her finger on why. He handed her a nicely wrapped package, and she grinned.
"Who helped you wrap it?" Willow teased, for some reason feeling nervous about opening it.
"Hey!" He said indignantly, "I wrapped it myself." At her look of disbelief he grinned. "Fine. Dawn helped me. In fact, she helped me out with the actual present as well."
Now Willow was intrigued. She ran her hands over the package and met his gaze briefly before slowly tearing the wrapping paper at one end. She pulled off the paper to find a plain white box underneath, ones that clothes were usually wrapped in. Willow lifted the lid of the box, half holding her breath. She separated the ends of tissue paper and lifted a slightly heavy object out of the box. It was not was she expected, she thought, gasping out loud.
It was a picture frame. More specifically, it was frame that held three 5x7 size photos. The frame was silver, and it glinted in the candlelight. It wasn't, however, the frame that had made her gasp. It was the pictures. One of herself and Oz, taken at the senior prom. They weren't even looking at the camera. She remembered how they'd stared intently into each other's eyes. The second photo was one that brought tears to her eyes. It was of her and Tara, dancing at Tara's twentieth birthday party.
The third frame was empty, and Willow looked at Lindsey with questions in her eyes.
He was kneeling before her, an open ring box in his outstretched hand. The diamond ring sparkled brightly.
"You've been lucky. You've gotten to experience the kind of love that I had only dreamed of, and you've gotten to do it twice. I know that a big portion of who you are today is because of Oz and Tara, and what they meant to you. I could never begrudge you their memories, nor would I ask you to forget them. I never want you to forget them, and that's why I had this put together. Oz was your first real love, and Tara was, in many ways, your soul mate. I want to be your endless love. This frame needs one more picture, and I want to fill it with one of me and you on our wedding day...If you'll have me."
It took Willow several moments to figure out that Xander was talking.
"Buffy doesn't deserve this." Xander said, his head hanging down. He was gripping Anya's hand tightly, using her as his lifeline to sanity. Without her calming presence, he would be going stir crazy right about now
He overheard two of the nurses as they walked by. He heard a vague murmuring of 'gangs' and 'pcp', and shook his head.
Denial ain't just a river in Egypt anymore, he thought, and nearly grinned at his extremely bad pun. He really needed some new material. Xander absentmindedly rubbed his thumb against the back of Anya's hand and was reminded of how lucky he really was that she'd forgiven him. It was mostly Buffy and Angel's doing, he supposed. One look at what they had, had made him miss her violently. It had taken begging, pleading, money-well spent, and certain acts in the bedroom that had made him wonder if he would be able to walk afterwards.
Walk he had, down the aisle with her by his side. He'd realized that life gave you gifts every now and then, and you had to cherish them while you had them...one could never know when it would be too late. He was confident now, that he would never become his father. They were two different people, and Anya, well, there was no way she would ever let herself become his mother. His fears had been valid, but for nothing.
Anya sighed, observing her husband out of the corner of her eye. She wondered what he was thinking. He was probably thinking about Buffy, she thought, but they all were at this point, and any jealousy she normally would have wasn't there. Buffy was going through something horrible, and Anya didn't understand it anymore now than she had when Buffy's mother had died. This time, it was her baby...an innocent life that was struggling to exist. Anya didn't understand how the fates could be so cruel to someone who had served them so faithfully.
*
A ringing sound penetrated through Dawn's sleep-fogged brain as she struggled to reach consciousness. She turned her head to find the annoying ringing object and cried out when it sent a sharp pain down her neck. Right, vampire bite.
"Something's ringing." Connor muttered. He too had fallen asleep, she noticed, looking for the offending object.
"I know. It's the phone." Dawn whispered, looking for the phone from her vantage point on the bed.
"Kill it." He ordered sleepily. She grinned at his grumpiness and spotted the phone at the same time. She practically threw herself over him to reach it without leaving the confines of the bed.
If he hadn't been awake before, he was now. Dawn was nearly straddling him as she grabbed the phone, and certain other body parts were clearly awake as a result. She didn't seem to notice as she clicked the talk button on the phone.
"Hello?" She breathed into the handset. The husky sound of her voice sent chills down his spine, and he tempted to-do things he shouldn't be thinking about at the moment, considering she was on the phone and injured. He watched as she talked to the other person on the end of the line and deduced that it must be Willow.
Dawn's face crumpled as she took in what Willow told her. Tears filled her eyes and made her vision go blurry. She finished the phone call numbly, promising to be at the hospital as soon as possible. Connor met her gaze as she hung up the phone.
"What's happened?" He asked. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. Dawn struggled with the words, and he leaned up to slip his arms around her waist. She really was straddling him at this point, but neither one of them were paying attention to that fact.
"Buffy's in labor." Dawn mumbled into his neck, where she had nestled her head. He felt the warm tears dripping onto his collar, and looked toward the heavens. Connor had been so sure that this was just a false alarm. The Powers that Be had done it again. "They're going to make her deliver the baby, Connor." Dawn sobbed into his shoulder.
Neither one of them quiet knew what to say after that. No words of comfort came to Connor's lips, and no words would be comforting to Dawn's ears. He just held her, and she cried.
After a few moments, Dawn pulled away and wiped her eyes.
"Willow said that Buffy was asking for me." Dawn told him. He nodded and released her. She disappeared into the bathroom seconds later, and then came out dressed in jeans and a short sleeved turtle neck sweater.
"Ready?" Connor asked, holding out his hand. She took it gratefully, but shook her head in reply. They were silent as she shut her bedroom door behind them.
*
"Did you call Dawn?" Buffy asked through her tears. Willow nodded, trying not to cry herself. It was hard to watch her best friend go through something this agonizing with the real prospect that her child would not survive. It was just too early. She held Buffy's hand, and willed some healing energy into her friends body. It wouldn't stop what was happening, but it might ease some the petite blonde's discomfort. Buffy cried out as a contraction went through her.
Willow's tears spilled over. She couldn't help it. Buffy saw them, and clenched her teeth against the pain. She would not have her friends crying over her. She looked over as she felt someone take her other hand. Angel's somber face met her pain glazed gaze. She couldn't handle the pain in his eyes either.
She fought desperately not to cry out.
She failed.
Why her mother had done this twice-well, once, but she remembered doing it twice-blew her mind. Buffy had never imagined in her wildest dreams that this is what labor would feel like. All three of them were thinking the same thing as she let her scream loose.
It was just too early.
*
Dawn could hear her sister's screams from down the hall. She rushed towards the room, Connor at her heels. She stopped just before the doorway though, as Buffy let out another cry. She took a deep breath, and looked at Connor for reassurance.
She could do this.
She took a step to enter the room but froze when Buffy spoke up.
"Am I being punished, Angel?" Buffy asked, her voice hoarse from her screams.
"No, of course not." Angel denied, his tears spilling over. Dawn hesitated. She didn't want to interrupt this moment between them.
"I am." Buffy sobbed. "I gave up my slayer powers and now they're taking my baby away." She cried.
The world fell out from under Dawn's feet.