Fic: Rough Magic (6/?)

[inell@xxxxxxx]

Title: Rough Magic
Author: Inell
Email: Inell@xxxxxxx
Disclaimer: Joss owns them all
Distribution: My site, Kiss or Kill, 
http://members.fortunecity.com/kissorkill Anyone that has permission, take. 
Otherwise, just ask.
Rating: R
Pairing: Willow/Buffy


ROUGH MAGIC (6/?)


Xander looked at the tubes coming out of Anya's arms, listening to the steady 
beeps coming from machines that he couldn't even identify, feeling the clammy 
coolness of her hand, and having no idea what to feel. It had all happened so 
fast. One minute, they'd been doing a supposedly routine spell. The next, 
he'd been in the hospital learning that his baby was gone and that Anya was 
lucky to be alive. He was still reeling from almost losing Anya. He hadn't 
even had time to think of the others until after Anya was stabilized. He knew 
that made him selfish, but he didn't care. Now, though, he was feeling guilty 
for not thinking of his friends. 


He squeezed Anya's hand as she slept, hoping that she knew that he hadn't 
left her side. The baby was gone, but she was going to be okay. He was still 
unsure how to react to the loss of his child. That part was still hazy. He 
hadn't had time to comprehend anything except the fact that Anya was alive. 
Looking at her now, he was struck by how much he loved her. When he had held 
her, thinking she might be dead, he'd been paralyzed with fear of living 
without her. She had become such a huge part of his life without his having 
even realized it. It had taken something so horrible for him to realize just 
how important she was to him. 


He sighed as he watched her sleep, knowing that she was under some heavy 
drugs. She'd been in pain, during her times of consciousness. Her eyes had 
been so sad, so confused. She hadn't screamed, but he could see that she had 
wanted to. She was so brave, his Anya. And she had no idea. She still seemed 
to consider being human a weakness. He could never convince her that it took 
more courage to live as a human than it did to spend centuries as a demon. He 
stood and brushed her hair from her face, placing a soft kiss against her 
forehead before straightening. He had been sitting for hours and needed to 
move. She would be out for a while, so he decided to get some coffee. Maybe 
he'd call Giles and see if everyone was okay. 


He went to the cafeteria and bought some coffee, cringing as he took a sip. 
It was awful, but it was drinkable. He finished half of it on the elevator 
ride back to the fourth floor. When the doors opened, he entered the hallway, 
looking for the phone. He found it, along with the line of two people waiting 
to use it. He knew he could use the phone in Anya's room, but he didn't want 
to risk disturbing her with his conversation, so he sat down to wait. In a 
way, it was almost a relief to be out of the hospital room. No beeps or wires 
or tubes. He put the cup on the floor beside his chair, leaning down and 
running a hand over his face. He couldn't handle this. It was all too much. 
What was he supposed to do?


With a sigh, he looked up, wishing he knew all the answers, knowing that he 
knew nothing. He had no idea what the future would hold. Anya was alive. 
Their baby was gone. He was so lost, and he hated it. Hated not knowing what 
to do. It was the first time in years that he'd been so scared. And then it 
happened. The elevator doors opened and he saw her. He stood, his foot 
knocking his cup over, spilling the remains of old coffee on the floor. He 
looked into her eyes, saw the despair and fear in their green depths and 
inhaled sharply. She was hurting, he knew instantly. He glanced behind her, 
seeing Buffy standing so close the girls were touching. A hand holding hers, 
squeezing much in the same way he had been squeezing Anya's moments before. 
He moved forward, his arms opening as he pulled Willow against him, hugging 
her as tight as possible as he finally let the tears fall.