The Slayer And The Witch Chapter 2/? - Formaldehyde and Chloroform, oh my

["Stefan Akerblom" <nagarek62@xxxxxxxxxxx>]

Hi again.

I had some commentary about the header not being readable, hopefully I 
fixed it, if not ... back to the drawing board! I'd like to say a big thank 
you to all the positive commentary, much appreciated, makes this an 
enjoyable experience. :o)

On with the story.

Stef.

The Witch And The Slayer - Stefan Akerblom aka - nagarek - 
nagarek62@xxxxxxxxxxx
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Critique:	Yes please, but no flames (I'm flammable)
Warning:	Building to NC-17, f/f relations, possiby f/f/m
Characters:	Willow, Buffy, Xander, Anya, Giles, Angel, Dawn, Spike, Wes, 
Cordy, Oz
(?), nurse Becky Chapel, nurse Erin Lonsdale,
Main Pairing/s:	Willow & Buffy, maybe Giles/Becky/Erin - who wants to see 
that? :o)
(not sure yet about Anya/Xander ... maybe) time will reveal all!
Disclaimer:	Joss Whedon owns all in the Buffy Universe, I have merely played 
and
embellished, not claimed any rights, apart from a couple of nice nursies!
Brief: Buffy and Willow have both recently lost their partners, Willow is
hospitalised and Buffy is almost paralysed with guilt over it, both Willow
and Buffy realise how much they really mean to each other, they embark
on a voyage of discovery and figuring out a way to break their new
relationship to their friends while keeping the minions of the hellmouth 
from
taking over. Meanwhile solutions present themselves which can have far
reaching effects on Buffy and Willow's future.

Many thanks go to Crys Loch (pagansoul@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx) for answering my 
email, and a lot of
inspiration and much encouragement (you said just the right things to make 
me think while I
channeled Willow), and to Cairo (played at ear-splitting volume) for setting 
the mood.
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Chapter 2 - Formaldehyde and Chloroform, oh my
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The paramedics strapped Willow to the stretcher to prevent her moving 
around. Apart from obvious abrasions and cuts from the landing after the 
accident, not much more could be discerned of the injuries, especially in 
the dark. Satisfied that there seemed to be no obvious permanent spinal 
injuries, they had efficiently stabilised and medicated her and put her in 
the ambulance. The by now semi-hysterical driver of the car that had struck 
her down was being interviewed by police. Buffy had already given her side 
of what she'd seen happen.

"Oh god Buffy, I hurt inside!" Willow whispered shakily, the pain obvious 
on her face. "I didn't think it was supposed to hurt this much inside if 
you'd been injured, I thought you'd be sort of numb and in shock and floaty 
on fluffy pillows or something ... " she closed her eyes, bit her bottom lip 
and whimpered softly as a wave of pain overtook her. Buffy's worried eyes 
roamed over Willow's face, trying to calm herself down for her friend.

"I know Will. But everything's going to be all right, the paramedic said 
there seems to be nothing major wrong that he can see, but he couldn't be 
sure of any internal damage yet. They strapped you down to try to minimise 
any further damage ... besides ..." Buffy tried to put on her chirpy happy 
Buffy voice and smile "... you'll get to ride in an ambulance with the siren 
on and everything!" Willow looked at her with an incredulous expression. But 
she was beginning to fade from the effects of the pain killers. She laid her 
head back, exhaustion clouding her consciousness. Her eyes closed again for 
a few long seconds, her breath coming in short, rapid pants.

"I ... I can't keep my eyes open Bu ... Buffy. It hurts so much and I think 
the injection they gave me is beginning to knock me out and I'm scared, and 
... don't leave me ... ohh ... Buffy ..." her eyes opened halfway, filled 
with pain and fright, tears forming and running down her temples. "Please 
don't leave me Buffy, I don't like hospitals, they're full of sick people 
and ... and they smell gross!" she struggled to reach out, but her arm was 
strapped firmly to the stretcher.

"Don't worry, I won't leave you Will." Buffy came to an instant decision. 
And climbing into the back of the ambulance, she sat down on the stretcher 
next to Willow, looking into her eyes as the red-head struggled to keep 
awake, holding her hand and softly stroking her arm. The paramedic treating 
Willow looked at Buffy.

"Sorry miss, you'll have to ride in the police car if you want to ..." he 
began, but silenced when Buffy glared at him.

"Unless you want to permanently lose the use of your body below the neck, I 
suggest you let me ride in your nice ambulance with my best friend, and you 
just get on with your job and see that she's as comfy as you can make her, 
hmmm?" the paramedic looked at Buffy and swallowed awkwardly, he got the 
impression now was not the time to argue with the icy voice and murderous 
eyes of the Slayer. He shrugged his shoulders, nodded his head and the 
driver and co-driver closed and latched the doors of the vehicle shut.

"Hang on Will, we'll be there soon."

----------------------

"You Family?" grunted the doctor. He was a short, stout, balding and abrupt 
man with thick horn rimmed glasses and breath that smelled of stale coffee 
and cigarettes. He held a yellow manilla folder labelled 'Willow Rosenberg' 
which held numerous forms, graphs and charts.

"Uh ... no they're out of the country and she has no other close relatives, 
I'm Willow's closest friend, Buffy Summers. I'm looking ... I ... I was 
supposed ..." her eyes cast down to her feet and she swallowed a lump, her 
voice dropped almost to a whisper "... supposed to be looking after her!" 
Buffy felt a horrible tearing guilt in the pit of her stomach, she'd let 
Willow down, she hadn't looked after her like she'd promised Giles and the 
others, like she'd promised herself. "H ... how is she?"

The doctor seemed to consider this for a few moments, sighed then shrugged 
his shoulders.

"OK, here is a worst case scenario, best to be prepared. Miss Rosenberg is 
probably suffering some internal bleeding, her spleen may have been 
ruptured, there's possibly some damage to her right kidney and lung but I 
can't be sure just yet, there is a possibility of spinal damage, multiple 
contusions, cuts and abrasions, swelling, there's possibly a fractured 
wrist, ankle and tibia, broken ribs, dislocated knee ..." the list seemed to 
go on and on, endlessly. Buffy's face drained completely of blood and she 
found it difficult to breathe, Willow hadn't looked that bad to her on the 
stretcher at the site of the accident, and the paramedic had said there was 
no spinal damage ... hadn't he? The smells in the hospital were becoming 
more intrusive, overwhelming and nauseating, panic was rising in the back of 
her throat like bile searching for release. Never in all the time fighting 
evil on the hellmouth had she felt this badly about anyone's welfare, 
including her own. She'd been in a bad way with the coming of her own death 
being prophesied with the master's ascension, and many times her friends too 
had been captured, facing an uncertain future at the hands of the minions 
from hell. But it hadn't ever affected her this way. This was someone Buffy 
cared for more than anything else she could imagine, and she was completely 
unable to help her, and it was all her fault that Willow lay in a hospital 
suffering now. No amount of slaying or cursing or crying was going to unmake 
this, she felt completely helpless, totally out of her depth. Buffy's eyes 
began filling with tears of dismay. She tried to keep her wavering voice 
steady.

"Is ... she ..." Buffy's throat was dry, her voice cracking, she swallowed 
and tried again. "Is she going to be all right?"

"It's still too early to tell. Until the lab tests come back, I can't give 
an accurate prognosis, but discounting any major disasters, I'm fairly 
confident she will be ok. She's going to have to remain here for observation 
and treatment for the next several days at least though. The injuries I 
stated are only possibles. Until I get some x-rays and reports back, I can't 
be certain of anything, there might be complications I'm unaware of at this 
stage. But my preliminary examination doesn't look too bad at this time. 
She's lucky, considering what both you and officer Lewiston told me, things 
could have been much worse. As it stands with a little luck, she should come 
out of this relatively well, but only time will tell. Be thankful for small 
mercies, I say." The doctor pulled out a pen and checking his watch, 
scratched some marks on one of the charts, flipped a few pages. "I will want 
your contact details in case anything changes ... that is ... I gather you 
ARE going to be the contact?"

"Uh ... yes, like I said, her parents have gone to Italy or ... Tibet or 
somewhere ... my name is Buffy Summers, 1630 Revello Drive in Sunnydale, my 
home phone is 525-3533, my mobile is 0417-367-1479. But I'm not gonna go 
home for a while ... yet. I need ... I want to be here ... for a while ... 
for her."

"Ok, I need to find out some specifics. To the best of your knowledge, does 
Miss Rosenberg use any habitual drugs or alcohol, any forms of medication, 
does she suffer from any allergies, does she suffer any other medical 
conditions, any mental conditions ...?" the doctor fired off a barrage of 
questions, most of which Buffy answered easily enough. The doctor ticked and 
crossed the forms in his hand, writing commentary here and there dependent 
on Buffy's answers. Finally he sighed and put his pen in his breast pocket.

"Well that should be all I need for now. There's going to be nothing you 
can do for her for the next several hours anyway. Are you ... are you sure I 
can't get one of the nurses to call you a cab?" The doctor looked at the 
young woman standing before him, obviously very distraught and not quite 
sure of what to do with herself.

"NO! I ... ah ... I want to stay ... here ... at least for now ... for a 
while ... with Willow, in case she wakes up ..." the doctor looked at the 
Slayer with a frown creasing his brow. He could see she carried a world upon 
her slim shoulders, This one looks like she'd had to grow up much too fast. 
His frown softened.

"Hmm ... ok, suit yourself, but we've knocked her out for a good while now 
to get the swellings, lesions and the bleeding under control, she'll be a 
while getting tests and x-rays."

"That's ok, I ... I'll just stay in the hall or whatever, and wait until 
she comes back, uh ... what room will she be in?"

"The nurse at the service counter will be able to give you that 
information. Good night Miss Summers, I suggest you try to get some sleep in 
the lounge at least, you look like you could use it." and with that he 
strode off, stethoscope swinging where it hung draped across his neck.

Buffy felt very alone and scared and tired and overwhelmed, the adrenaline 
had worn off and her system was beginning to come down off the Slayer high. 
She wandered over to the service counter, and waited a few moments until the 
nurse seemed to stop writing. The nurse looked up and smiled warmly at 
Buffy, she had a pretty face with dark brown eyes framed by strawberry 
blonde hair. She returned her attention to her reports.

"Hi ... um ... I'm Buffy ... I'm a friend ... of Willow Rosenberg. What 
room is she going to be staying in?" Again the nurse looked at Buffy and 
smiled.

"Hi Buffy, um ... room 402, just down the hall, and" she looked down at 
something behind the counter "... I see she's in the lab as we speak, she's 
going to be in there a while for tests. Want to go get yourself a coffee or 
something? The lounge is down there and on the right, follow the green line 
on the floor. There's a TV in there too."

"Thanks ... miss ... sister ... nurse ... " Buffy looked at the tag on her 
lapel " ... Chapel, nurse Chapel."

"Call me Becky, and you're welcome. Milk's in the fridge, sugar in the 
sachets in the plastic container, there might even be some shortbread or 
sandwiches in there." Buffy smiled faintly, nodded and walked off to find 
the lounge.

------------------------------

How could she have let this happen? She'd promised everyone she was going 
to take care of Willow. Now look, she was in hospital, and they were 
probably opening her up and rummaging through her internal organs looking to 
harvest her liver and ... oh god, enough with the morbid imagination. Buffy 
sipped absently from the cup of corrosively strong coffee she'd made. 
Curling her legs up under herself, she sat on a chair opposite the TV, the 
lounge was empty except for herself. At 3am in the morning, Buffy wasn't 
surprised, most people dead or living would be in bed, except for some of 
the undead of course. With the volume almost turned completely off, the TV 
muttered softly showing news and weather forecasts and other graveyard shift 
stuff ... graveyard, what had she been thinking bringing Willow with her to 
a cemetery in the condition her mind and mood had been in?

Self recriminations were coming thick and fast, but in spite of that, there 
was no feeling any the better for it, Buffy could find no solace in anything 
she could think of, all she had was blame and rebukes. Vamps she could fight 
and kill, demons too, and any other evil spawn that the hellmouth could 
throw at her. But the fact that her back had been turned away from Willow, 
and the vamp had finally stopped to fight it's last stand, and she'd been 
pre-occupied with getting the stake into this unusually virile and active 
monster, and that Willow had carelessly wandered along the badly lit road at 
night, not watching where she was going, and the driver had been driving too 
fast, and probably under the influence of alcohol or drugs or ... none of it 
mattered, it was all her fault, she'd let Willow down, badly! Given that the 
doctor had stated that things could have worked out much worse as far as the 
injuries were concerned, Buffy had mind-wracking nightmarish thoughts of 
what could REALLY have happened if Willow's luck had been out tonight. She 
was frightened by these imagined situations because she knew that no matter 
if tonight had been life threatening or not for Willow, there was absolutely 
nothing Buffy could have done to help her friend.

And of course it did no good telling herself it wasn't her fault. Of course 
it was her fault, she'd promised everyone she'd look after Willow. More than 
anything else however, she was furious because she'd promised herself she'd 
look after Willow. She'd let herself down almost as badly as she had let 
Willow down. And as she sat and cursed herself and the vamp and the car and 
the driver and the bad road, the tears began to flow. She sat and whispered 
in the quiet of the lounge.

"God ... if I'd lost you Willow, I couldn't live with myself. Please be ok, 
be strong and pull through, for me ... for yourself and the others. And ... 
and for me ... too ... please. I need you so much. I don't want to be 
without you. I promise I will never ever let anything like this happen 
again. Please God, take care of her for me this once, you know how much I 
need her, I know she's not Christian, but then neither am I so I ... I have 
no right to make demands on you, but I just need you to listen to me this 
once and to understand, I need her to be here with me, I need her so much, I 
can't do all this on my own. I don't know if you know what I do ... or ... 
or I expect you do, you're supposed to know everything, right? A ... anyway, 
my point is I need Willow in my life, don't let her be badly hurt or suffer 
because of what I did, it's my fault, not hers, don't leave her with 
anything serious ... and ... and ... ohboy ... listen to me, I'm rambling. 
OK Buffy get a grip, deep breath here." She tried, but the breath turned 
into a loud sob. "Please God, if you're there, let me have another chance, I 
promise you this time I'll take such good care of her, I swear it on my 
life, if you need to hurt someone, hurt me or kill me, but please God, 
please don't hurt my Willow!" Racking sobs interspersed her words and she 
collapsed in grief and wept openly.

Nurse Chapel stood outside the doorway to the lounge, out of view to the 
Slayer, listening to the softly spoken prayers and cries of misery from the 
young girl and felt waves of deep compassion for her, felt the blonde's 
despair and guilt and remorse. Silently she walked away, her own eyes 
filling with tears.

to be continued in:

Chapter 3 - First contact

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