Part 18
The waiting room at Sunnydale Memorial Hospital was packed with people two hours later. Giles, Jenny and Dawn sat together, having come immediately once Faith had called them with the news that Buffy had been found. On the other side of the room, Spike, Wesley, Fred, Cordelia and Gunn waited together after arriving from LA an hour earlier. Faith leaned against one of the small windows, staring out at the early morning sky. And Angel paced from one side of the room to the other continuously.

They'd all been waiting for what seemed like hours for an update on Buffy's condition. Angel and Faith had told everyone they thought she would be fine, but each one wanted to hear that from a doctor so they could feel secure in the knowledge. If a doctor or nurse didn't show up soon, each thought they might go insane with worry.

"It's hard to believe Willow is the one responsible for all this," Giles muttered, shaking his head as he thought of the young woman he'd grown to like from her visits to the library.

"Drugs can make even the most normal people crazy," Faith answered unconsciously.

"Yes," agreed Giles, taking his glasses off to wipe them with his handkerchief. "When Buffy came to me and told me she'd seen Willow buying methamphetamine at the Bronze, I could hardly believe it. Then when I thought more about it, I realized her behavior had become a little erratic. She would be at the library at all hours and seem a bit jumpy. She got into an argument once with another student over a book they both wanted. I never thought, though, that she would get this bad."

"We still don't have all the details about why she went after Buffy," Faith added in. "Hopefully Buffy will be able to explain the rest."

No one dared to utter the thought about if Buffy would be okay to tell them the other details.

"Where is Willow now?" questioned Jenny, holding on to her husband's hand tightly.

"I talked to Kate. She said they were having her admitted to the psych ward here," Faith relayed of the update she'd gotten from the mansion. "She'll need to be evaluated before anything else."

"If she gets help, there's every chance she may be able to lead a normal life." This came from Wesley.

Giles glared at the younger man. "She needs to be in prison."

"I'm not saying she should not be punished for her actions, but rehabilitation is not out of the realm of possibility," Wesley disagreed.

"Now-"

"No," Angel interrupted Giles, speaking for the first time in a half hour. "Wesley is right. What Willow did was wrong. I won't argue that, but she needs help. Maybe it's too late for her and maybe not, but she deserves the opportunity. Buffy taught me that everyone deserves a second chance."

Giles snapped his mouth shut at the vague reminder of the girl Buffy had been when he first arrived in Sunnydale. Things were so different now that it was often hard to reconcile the past with the present. But thinking about it now, he conceded the point. Buffy had been giving a second chance to make her life better, and she had taken it. Giles didn't know if Willow could be helped, but he supposed she should be given the chance.

Before they could debate the subject of Willow's future any further, the door to the waiting room opened and a young looking woman in a white doctor's coat stepped into the room. Everyone grew silent at her entrance, anxiously waiting for whatever she had to tell them.

"You're Buffy Summers' family, and uh," she glanced at all the people in the room, "friends?"

They all nodded and Giles stood up from his chair. "I am her uncle, Rupert Giles."

"I'm Doctor Amy Madison. I was the ER resident on call when Buffy was brought in," she introduced herself, then moved right on to what she was sure everyone wanted to know. "Buffy will be fine."

There was an almost audible sigh of relief at her words. Angel slumped back against the wall. He'd told himself over and over again that her injuries hadn't appeared life-threatening. Hearing the doctor tell them, though, made the point more salient.

"Thank God," Giles whispered, hugging Jenny and Dawn. "What about her injuries?"

"Most of them are strictly superficial. The bruises on her shoulder and face are minor as is the cut on her lip," Dr. Madison explained to them. "One of her ribs on her left side is cracked. Thankfully, it didn't break fully so it will just be sore for a few weeks. Her fingers are the biggest worry right now."

"Her fingers?" Giles repeated, paling when he thought of how Angel had told him something had been wrong with Buffy's right hand, the hand she painted with.

"Yes," Amy nodded, rechecking the details on the chart she held. "Three of her fingers were broken in multiple places."

"Will...will they be all right?" Jenny asked, clutching Giles hand. "She's an artist."

Amy pursed her lips at the new information, realizing the implication. "I can't say for sure right now. The bones will set fine, but we don't know yet if there has been any tendon or muscle damage. An orthopedic specialist will be looking at them later today."

"You'll let us know what he or she has to say?" Giles requested, praying that there was no permanent damage to Buffy's hand. He didn't want to think about what might happen if she could never paint again.

"Of course."

"Is...is Buffy awake?" Dawn inquired, her worry evident in her voice.

"She is, yes." Amy gave them a reassuring smile. "She came to not long after arriving at the Emergency Room. I think it was only the stress of the situation and the pain that made her pass out, but she may also have a mild concussion."

"A concussion?" Spike spoke up. "What happened to her head?" He hadn't heard any mention of something being done to her head.

"There was a lump on the back of her skull. Nothing serious, but we did a Cat Scan just to be sure and it came out fine," Amy relayed.

"Probably from when Willow got to her in the garage," Faith said, rolling her shoulders and her head as she tried to push away the exhaustion that was creeping in. "She probably hit Buffy in the back of the head to knock her out. We found a few drops of blood not far from Buffy's car."

"That sounds like a possibility," nodded Amy, checking her chart. "There was a small cut with the lump, but it had already scabbed over."

"S-so you think she'll be okay?" stated Angel, the stutter in his voice caused by his relief that there didn't appear to be anything life threatening wrong with Buffy.

"She'll be just fine," Amy smiled sympathetically. "We'll keep her overnight just for observation and so the orthopedic doctor can look at her hand. If everything goes well, she should be able to go home tomorrow."

"Thank you, Dr. Madison." Giles held out his hand and shook Amy's. He sighed and averted his eyes, not wanting anyone in the room to see the emotion on his face. Ever since coming to Sunnydale almost four years ago, Buffy had become like a daughter to him. He'd seen her turn her life around after so much struggle and tragedy. If something even worse had happened...well, the thought didn't bear considering.

"You're welcome. I'm glad she's doing so well considering the situation." Amy tucked her clipboard with Buffy's chart under her arm and gazed around the room at all the concerned faces. Buffy was lucky to have so many people who cared a great deal about her. "Right now she's being moved to room 212 on the second floor. You can all see her, but one or two at a time."

Doctor Madison said her goodbyes to the family and left the room. No sooner had she left than everyone in the room started for the door, wanting to see Buffy. They piled into an elevator together, no one complaining that there wasn't quite enough room to fit them all.

On the second floor, they quickly hurried as one toward room two-twelve and stopped outside. Jenny studied Angel out of the corner of her eye. He was staring at the door to Buffy's room, looking as if he wanted to push everyone out of the way to get to Buffy. Jenny was even more sure now that there was something serious between the two. She hoped that things would work out between them. Buffy deserved to have a good man in her life, and Angel seemed to be that, though she didn't know him very well.

"Why don't you go in first, Angel?" she said softly. Giles opened his mouth to say something and Jenny shot him a look that shut him up in a hurry.

Angel knew he should say no and let Buffy's family enter first, but he desperately wanted to see her. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course. I'm sure Buffy wants to see you," Giles replied diplomatically, pleasing Jenny.

"Thanks." Angel nodded to the group and stepped up to the door.

His hand shook a little as he pushed it open. Shaking his head against the nervous reaction, Angel stepped into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. The doctor had said that Buffy was okay, but part of him had yet to accept that. His mind kept flashing back to rushing into that cold, stark room and seeing Buffy trussed up and battered. He'd never been so terrified in his entire life. Or so full of rage.

He needed to see her, to make sure she was alive and as well as could be given the situation. Angel kept in mind, though, that Buffy had been through a lot and was likely sleeping. So he took quiet steps further into the room. If she was asleep, he would not wake her. He would just sit with her a few minutes, offer his silent support.

To Angel's surprise, Buffy was reclining in her bed, watching the TV mounted high on the wall. She noticed him the moment he came into sight and promptly turned off the TV. The smile she gave him nearly melted his heart.

"Angel!" she greeted him, feeling instantly better. Buffy wasn't sure she'dever seen anything as wonderful as Angel coming to stand next to her bed.

"Hey." He smiled back at her, pulling up a chair next to her bed and sitting. "How are you?" Stupid question, he told himself. He could guess how she was.

"Been better," Buffy answered with a shrug, wincing at the soreness in her shoulder. "They gave me some pain medication."

Angel reached up, touched the dark bruise on Buffy's cheek, running his fingers lightly over the tender skin. "I'm sorry."

He started to take his hand away, but Buffy quickly caught it in hers – the one without the broken fingers – and held on tightly. "This wasn't your fault, Angel."

"I was supposed to protect you," he disagreed, his voice dripping with guilt.

"I shouldn't have gone out on my own. I knew it was dangerous and I did it anyway. It's my fault Willow finally got to me," she said, the retort tired and weary.

"I just...I hate seeing you like this," Angel returned, taking in the numerous visible injuries on Buffy's body.

Buffy gave him and understanding smile. "Then you know how I felt after you were shot." She sighed and rested her head on her pillow, her exhaustion suddenly growing. "Willow was sick. I'm not sure she even really knew what she was doing. I know I should hate her, but I can't help feeling sorry for her."

"She's been admitted to the psych ward upstairs," he told her, still torn between wanting to see Willow punished for all the pain she'd caused and wanting her to get the help she so obviously needed.

"I'm glad. Maybe she can be helped," she mumbled over a yawn. God, she was so tired all the sudden.

"I should let you get some sleep," he stated quietly, noticing how Buffy could barely keep her eyes open. He started to pull his hand away from where Buffy held it, but she gripped it tightly.

"Stay?" she requested just before her eyes fluttered shut and her breathing evened out.

"Always," he whispered, knowing Buffy was already asleep and hadn't heard him.


Three hours later, Angel found himself sitting alone in the hospital cafeteria. He'd stayed with Buffy the entire time she'd slept and while her family and friends had trickled in and out to see for themselves that she was okay. Nobody had asked to him to leave and he hadn't offered. Sitting there holding her hand had eased the huge ball of tension that had formed in his stomach the moment he'd realized she had disappeared.

Right now Buffy was getting an MRI on her hand to determine if there was any serious damage or if there were just broken bones. He prayed to whatever higher powers there were in the universe that the results of the scan would be positive. Buffy didn't deserve to have her career destroyed He worried about her state of mind if such a thing should happen. Becoming an artist had helped save her life. What would happen if she couldn't paint anymore?

Angel reminded himself to think positive. The MRI was a precautionary measure. It didn't stop him from worrying or wondering what he'd say to her if the news was bad.

A brown paper bag plopped down in front of Angel and he tore his gaze off his styrofoam coffee cup. Faith stood next to him, her hands on her hips. He looked to the bag and then back to Faith.

"Did you have any trouble finding it?" he asked, opening the bag and peeking in.

"Nope." She dropped down into the seat across from Angel and propped her legs up on a nearby chair. "One pint of cookie dough fudge mint chip."

"Thanks."

After refolding the top of the bag, he set it aside. He'd asked Faith to run out and pick up some of Buffy's favorite ice cream. She had a soft spot for it, he knew after living in her apartment since all the trouble started. With everything that had happened the last twenty-four hours, he thought she might need some comfort food.

"Is everyone else still here?" Faith wanted to know, snagging Angel's coffee and taking a swig.

Angel glared at her and grabbed his coffee back. "I think so. Mrs. Giles – Jenny – went home because their babysitter couldn't stay longer."

"Right."

They lapsed into silence, both rather worn out from the night's events. Faith cocked her head and held back a smile as she noticed Angel checking his watch at least once every five minutes. He was waiting for the hour they'd been told the MRI would take to pass.

"You really care about her, don't you?" she mused aloud.

"What?" Angel's eyes snapped up to Faith, a frown forming.

"You," she pointed at him, "you care about her."

"Of course I do. Buffy is a good person," he replied, hedging a bit.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," she shot back. "Besides, I can remember a time when you didn't think that way."

"That was before. Things are...different...now." Angel shifted in his seat, hoping Faith would drop the subject. He didn't exactly want to discuss his feelings for Buffy with her.

"Uh huh," she grunted, rolling her eyes at his evasiveness.

Standing, Angel grabbed his now empty coffee and thebag with Buffy's ice cream. Time to make a full retreat before Faith sank her teeth any further into the issue. Besides, Buffy should be back from her MRI soon. He intended to be with her when the results came in.

"I'm going back upstairs," he told Faith, tossing his cup in a nearby trash can and then strolling quickly out of the cafeteria.

Back at the table, Faith chuckled. Angel was a total goner. She wondered if either one of them – Buffy or Angel – would have the balls to admit how they felt. Knowing those two, they'd circle each other for a while, causing all that disgusting uber angst before saying fuck it and then fucking each other. It'd be amusing to watch at least.


Buffy dug her spoon into the pint of ice cream and enthusiastically ate a mouthful. There was nothing like cookie dough fudge mint chip. Angel was a God for bringing her some. It hit the perfect spot. She licked the spoonthen grinned at Angel.

While she ate the ice cream, Buffy tried not to think about the MRI she'd just had. She was in complete denial about what might be wrong with her fingers. The doctor had told her there was a possibility of permanent damage. Buffy didn't want to think about it. So she told herself that until and unless there was something to worry about, she wouldn't. Instead, she would continue to believe that therewas every chance her hand would be fine with a bit of healing.

"I don't know how you can eat that rubbish," Giles grumbled from side of the bed opposite Angel. He'd insisted on waiting with her for the doctor to come in and give a report on the MRI.

"It's good. You should try it." She held out the carton to him and Giles wrinkled his noise at it. Buffy shrugged and held the treat out to Angel. "How about-"

Whatever she was about to say stuck in her throat as the door to her room opened and the orthopedic doctor she'd met before her MRI walked into the room. Suddenly, Buffy felt nauseous, afraid to hear whatever the man had to say, but needing to know anyway. She set the ice cream on the tray across her bed and sat up higher. Buffy knew that what she was about to hear could change her life forever.

"Miss Summers," the doctor greeted her. "I've gone over the results of your MRI."

"And?" she asked, her voice shaky.

"There are no serious or permanent injuries to you fingers," he responded gently.

Buffy sagged back against her pillow, feeling an unexplainable sense of relief. Her fingers would be fine. She would be able to paint again. Tears gathered in her eyes and she ducked her head, not wanting anyone to see. Finally getting herself back under control, she raised her eyes.

"Thank you."

"I'm glad everything turned out all right." He walked over to the bed and carefully picked up Buffy's injured hand. "All three fingers were dislocated, you're ring and index fingers at the lower joint and your pointer finger at the upper joint," he explained, gesturing to the appropriate areas. "One of them had already popped back into place before you arrived at the hospital, and the other two were realigned down in the ER. The MRI showed a very minor tear of the ligament in your index finger, but it's so small I could barely see it."

"It...it won't be a problem, will it?" Buffy questioned nervously, staring at her tormented fingers.

"No. They'll be sore for a while and you will have to follow a treatment plan, but you should be back painting in no time." The doctor crossed his arms in front of him and stepped away from the bed. "I'll be by tomorrow before you're discharged to give you information on how to take care of them. If you have any questions in the meantime, just ask one of the nurses to contact me."

"Thank you," Buffy said again.

After the doctor had left, Giles stood and leaned over the bed to give Buffy a tender hug. "Well, that is certainly good news."

"Yeah," Buffy gave him a relieved smile. "You'll tell everyone else?"

"Of course. I'll also call Jenny and fill her in," Giles answered, already walking to the door.

"Wait," she spoke up, seeing the tired slouch in her uncle's body. "After you tell them, why don't you go home? I'm sure you must be exhausted."

"I don't mind staying," he offered.

"It's okay. I'll be fine," Buffy assured him.

"If you're sure."

Buffy nodded at him so Giles said his goodbyes and left the room, leaving Angel and Buffy alone together. She relaxed back on the bed and turned her head toward Angel. "It wasn't until the doctor told me my hand would be okay that I really realized what could have happened."

"Now you don't have to worry anymore." Angel was immensely relieved as well. His heart had been pounding when the doctor came into the room. He'd dreaded hearing that there was something serious wrong with Buffy's fingers. "I'm glad they'll be okay."

"Me too." She yawned and moved around on the bed, trying a find a comfortable position. The action made her side hurt and she pressed a hand to the area, wincing at the pain.

"Are you okay?" Concern filled Angel. For a little bit, he'd almost forgotten about her other injuries under the worry about her hand. The broken fingers were only one part of all she'd suffered.

"Yeah. My ribs are just sore. Doctor Madison said they would be. I just have to be careful how I move and that I don't bump them," she relayed, relaxing now that the pain was easing up. It was going to take her a little while to get used to her limitations.

Raising his hand, Angel tucked a strand of hair behind Buffy's ear. Despite the bruises and the overall weariness on her face, she still looked beautiful. And thoroughly exhausted. "You should try to get some sleep."

The feel of Angel's fingers against her skin soothed Buffy. How was it that he could do that to her? She wished he could climb up into the bed and hold her, ease the remaining tension in her body from all she'd been through. But she didn't dare ask. There was still too much unsettled between them. And she didn't want to set herself up for a fall. If she let herself get too attached to Angel, she would only end up hurt. He didn't care about her the way she cared about him. Loved him. So wanting him to hold her was wrong. She had to get used to him not being around. Soon he would return to his own life. She didn't need his protection anymore.

Buffy idly remembered how when she was Willow's prisoner, she'd wanted to tell Angel she loved him. Now that she was free and able to do so, she didn't dare attempt it. She was a chicken, that's what she was. Fear of rejection was a powerful force, though. Why set yourself up to get burned? She would keep her feelings to herself. When all this was settled, she would thank Angel for all his help and move on with her life. If her heart shattered in the process, so be it.

Just because she couldn't ask him to hold her while she slept didn't mean she couldn't ask him to remain. She did not want to be alone right now.

"Will you stay?" she asked softly, yawning again. "I don't want to be by myself."

"I'll stay," he assured her, reaching for her hand. "I'll be here as long as you want me to."

"Thanks." Buffy snuggled under the covers, still holding Angels hand. Her last thought before she fell asleep was that she wished things could be different, that she and Angel could be together so that he could be there every night when she fell asleep.

Angel watched as Buffy's eyes drifted shut and she fell almost instantly asleep. He didn't know how she'd managed to remain awake so long. The only sleep she'd had in the last thirty-six hours was the nap she'd had earlier. As a cop, he was used to long hours awake, but he didn't think Buffy was. She was getting some much needed sleep now, though. He would stay with her the entire night if it would bring her comfort.

Settling into his chair, Angel felt his own eyes falling shut. His shoulder was throbbing, but he barely noticed. The long night and day were finally catching up to him, and soon he too was sound asleep. When Faith checked on them an hour later, Angel was still clutching Buffy's good hand and his head was resting on the bed next to her shoulder.


The following morning, Buffy sat on her bed flipping through the channels on her TV. There was absolutely nothing on to watch. Why couldn't hospitals get decent channels? Talk shows with weird, crazy people were the last thing she wanted to watch right now. And there wasn't anybody around for her to talk to.

Wesley, Fred, Cordelia and Gunn had been in to see her earlier before going back to LA. Each of them had jobs and responsibilities they had to return to. Faith and Spike were out having breakfast somewhere. Giles had an important meeting at the college he couldn't get out of. And Jenny and Dawn had dragged Angel out of her room, insisting he go back to the Giles house so he could shower, change into the clothes her uncle had found for him, and eat some food. Angel hadn't wanted to go, but her aunt and sister had persisted until he gave in. So for the last hour, there'd only been the TV to keep her company. A book or a magazine would have been more interesting.

Buffy poked at the remainder of her breakfast, grumbling to herself about the lousy food. The eggs were overcooked and the bacon was rubbery. Only the orange juice was halfway decent. Pushing the tray aside, Buffy instead picked up the papers her doctor had brought in just after Angel left. The small stack had information about her injuries and things she should and shouldn't do until she was healed.

Absentmindedly, she scratched at her arm where the doctor had drawn more blood that morning. Being a pin cushion was definitely not a fun thing. If she got stuck with one more needle, she'd scream. At least she would be discharged in a couple hours and those evil nurses wouldn't be able to get near her with sharp implements anymore.

A short while later, Buffy was just finishing up reading about how to take care of her ribs when the door to her room opened and Dr. Madison entered. Buffy smiled at the woman, glad she had such a nice doctor. The smile faded when she saw the pensive look on her doctor's face.

"Is everything okay?" Buffy wanted to know, sitting up straighter.

"Sort of," Amy said slowly. She studied her patient while she considered how to say her next words. "I took more blood this morning because I wanted to run a more thorough check to make sure you hadn't been given any drugs during your ordeal. Which you weren't. No foreign substances were found."

"That's good." Buffy frowned at the doctor. Something wasn't right. "But?"

"The lab report does show something else."

Nervousness filled Buffy. There was something wrong with her. Clenching her good hand on the sheet, she drew in a breath. "Wh-what?"

"You're pregnant, Buffy."


TBC!