FIC: WIllow Watches Buffy: BRing on the Night

["Ivy Gort" <ivygort23@xxxxxxxxxxx>]

Author Ivy Gort
Spoilers for Seventh Season
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, nor do I have the right to this
fiction.
Summery: Another Vignette; Willow watch over Buffy.

Willow Watching Buffy: Bring on the Night

I’m watching her sleeping, it’s a restless sleep. I don’t know if it’s
because of the pain from her injuries or nightmares from her ordeal. I
thought she was dead, again. I’d never seen her so broken, so beaten—even
when she died and fell from 7 stories—she didn’t look this bad.

"How is she?" Xander whispers, entering into the bedroom.

"Sleeping." I whisper back to him, putting the book I wasn’t reading on the
night table next to the bed and standing up from the chair I’d pulled over
to be close to her.

"Aw, god, Willow; what are we going to do if Buffy can’t beat that thing?"

Even in the darkened room, with only the reading lamp for light, I could see
the haunted look in Xander's eyes. I knew his next question: he had been
the one to find her tonight, or considering it was almost dawn, now, last
night. He was the one that found the hole in the wall of the factory and the
flash of light hair under the rubble.

“What if she can’t beat it this time, Will?” He asked again, his voice
pleading with me for reassurance. “Even when she…” He had to pause to
swallow the choked sob, “Even when she died she didn’t look this bad.”

“I know,” I answer, placing my hand on his shoulder. At the touch he pulls
me into a hug. I feel his tears on my neck. His are matching mine at the
moment.

I know what he’s thinking, its same thing that I am. It has nothing to do
with the First Evil or the Uber-vamp; it has everything to do with our love
for the incredibly strong woman lying in the bed five feet away.

It has nothing to do with what if she can’t beat it, it has everything to do
with: ‘what if she dies.’

All the potentials, all the people of Sunnydale that know about her, they
all think she’s indestructible. They all think she’s this super human being
that can’t be killed or hurt…. But, Xander and I know differently. I’ve
held her as she cried, I’ve washed the caked on blood off her face after a
battle, when she was too tired to do it herself. And, I straightened out
the broken bones when she died.

Please God, don't make me have to do that again!

Xander had seen her dead one other time; when the Master had drained her.
He was the one that had scooped up her and franticly rushed her to the
hospital when she had collapsed from the flu and, from what we thought at
the time, a vicious beating from Angelus.

And he was the one that had carried her home tonight. He carried the
busied, bloodied, and barely conscious, slayer back from her defeat. No,
that’s wrong. It wasn’t a defeat it was a ruthless, savage beating.

“I thought she was dead!” I want to shout in Xander’s ear, but instead I
keep my voice down. She has incredible hearing, and even though I know
she’s asleep, I cast the spell myself, I can never be too sure.

“I Will, I know.” And now its Xander that’s comforting me.

“She’s going to out after this vampthing as soon as she can walk.” I plead
to his shirt, “she’s going to go out to fight it because that’s just the way
she is.” His arms tighten around me, he knows I’m right.

Where Buffy is concerned I’m always right…I…don’t want to admit why I know
my best friend so well. My other best friend takes a deep breath, then lets
out a sigh, pushing away from me.

“Giles wants us downstairs for a big meeting.” He tells me, the way he
looks at me, with that incredible love and acceptance makes me cringe. My
best friend, my Yellow Crayon man, has figured out my true feelings for our
savior. Has figured them out and is aware that and as of now, I don’t want
to think or admit them to myself. So he just turns away from me, “make sure
she’s comfortable and meet us in the Dinning room.”

I nod and wrap my arm around my middle; I’m cold away from his embrace. I
turn back to my sleeping friend. Even with the bruises, cuts, and black
eyes she’s still so, so beautiful. I pray that one day I’ll have the nerve
to tell her. I know she can never love me “that way” back, but I just want
her to know I love her and when she dies again, I’ll find a way to die with
her.

The End






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