Chapter 11: Personal Demons
Angel stood outside of the emergency wing of the hospital and pondered his options. He knew that the staff would not let visitors in at this time of night, but he had to see her. It had already been far too long. He waited in the shadows as people approached quickly. An older man was carrying a little boy, presumably his son, who was crying against his father's chest. The man rushed through the doors and Angel slipped silently in behind him. As the nurses were distracted by the pair, Angel made his way down the hall.
Centuries of creeping about were useful when he could not afford to be noticed, and now was one of those times. Once he was out of the emergency wing, he let himself relax. There were only a few people in the halls, and his heightened senses allowed him to hide long before they were actually in view. He followed the signs to the intensive care unit, but soon he found that he did not need any signs to tell him where Buffy was. He just knew. He was practically running when he heard a harsh whisper.
"Angel!"
He turned to the voice. He couldn't see anyone, but he could smell someone. The scent was familiar, but he was having a hard time placing it until something touched his arm.
"Angel," the voice whispered, "it's me, Dawn."
And suddenly she was there, her hand on his arm. Now that he knew she was there he wondered how he could have missed her before. A small smile crept across his face. "You're cloaked."
"Yup," she said cheerily. Several seconds of awkward silence stretched between them before she spoke again, this time in a soft, gentle voice. "Come on. I'll take you to her."
---
Buffy couldn't stop the panic rising in her chest. She couldn't breathe, and spots were starting to dance before her eyes. The world was getting steadily fuzzier as she punched, kicked, and scratched at the wood until finally it gave way. Earth poured in around her, but she quickly thrust her head through the small, jagged hole.
She still couldn't breathe, and now she really couldn't see. She instinctively tried to blink. That was a mistake. The dirt stung terribly as it was pressed against her bare eyes. Dirt was filling her eyes and mouth as she struggled to pull her body through the small hole. Finally her legs were free, and she hauled her limbs through the soil. It was like she was trying to swim, only she was drowning in a solid, and just as she felt that she could not go on any longer, her hand broke the surface. She summoned all of her remaining strength to pull herself the rest of the way up.
---
Angel watched in silence through the window. A woman lay on the hospital bed. He couldn't think of her as Buffy. Even though he knew it was her, the thought did not seem to have sunk in, and he did not think he'd really believe until he'd seen her face. Now, all he could see was her lower body, which was covered by a hospital blanket, a few inches of her torso, and two limp arms. Obscuring her head sat Giles, his hands wrapped around one of hers. His lips were moving, and Angel could softly hear the words through the wall. Vampiric hearing didn't miss much.
"I wonder if you'll ever forgive me," the Watcher was saying. "Although I'm not sure I deserve it. But then, we both know from personal experience that to forgive is an act of mercy. It's not done because people deserve it; it's done because they need it. I need it, and I need you to wake up to give it to me."
Angel stood as a silent witness to the man's pain. He knew guilt, and he could see it plain as day. Angel himself felt a bit guilty listening, but he was so close to her. Angel didn't have it in him to leave now, nor could he walk through that door. So he watched, and he listened.
"I am deeply sorry, Buffy. I never should have left. I should never have abandoned you. I thought I was right; I thought I had to leave for you to be an adult. Sometimes the most adult thing you can do is ask for help when you need it. I see that now..."
Giles trailed off, staring at Buffy.
"You cut your hair," he whispered, almost too softly for Angel to hear.
She cut her hair? Angel thought in shock. He wondered what it looked like, but he was sure she was as beautiful as ever.
---
Buffy lay on the grass, gasping like a fish out of water. She struggled to fill her lungs and get the mud out of her mouth. She fought the urge to rub her stinging eyes with her bloody hands as she attempted to clear her vision. She felt as though the very air were pressing her to the ground, trying to push her back into the Earth.
It was me that took you out of the Earth. Well now, the Earth wants you back.
Buffy furrowed her brow. The voice was so familiar, but she was hearing everything as if through a filter. Everything sounded muffled, and her vision was still blurry. She pushed herself to her feet wearily and inspected her surroundings.
Trapped. She was still trapped, trapped beneath the earth. The familiar panicky feeling returned full force as the dirt walls began to come to life around her.
"Personal demons, here I come," she said aloud.
As the mud demons pulled free of the dirt and began to advance, she raised the sword she found in her hand.
TBC
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