Part Seven
“And so there are baby birds everywhere,” Xander was saying, arms gesturing wildly, “and I grab a broom, you know? And mind you, this whole time I’m wearing nothing but a bath towel!”
Willow and Tara laughed at the image Xander presented them with. “Oh god, Xander!” Willow said through her laughter.
Xander nodded, laughing as well. “Uh huh! And so there I am, broom over my head, about to lose the towel. And that is when Anya comes in.”
That sent them laughing even harder. Buffy was joining in wholeheartedly, tears of mirth running down her face. A particularly hard laugh came all the way from her stomach only to be cut off with a wince. The sudden jolt of pain almost made her choke on her laughter.
“Buffy!” Willow said, her own laughter cut off abruptly. “Are you okay?”
Buffy scooted in her bed to get comfortable again. It didn’t work. The pain was constant, and growing as the pain killers wore off. “I’m okay,” she said reassuringly. “You were saying? So what happened?” she directed at Xander.
Willow turned her attention back to him as well. “This isn’t going to turn dirty, is it? ‘Cause we know Anya.”
Xander just grinned. “Nah. Though there was a second…. Well, it turns out Anya is absolutely terrified of baby birds. So she ended up standing on the kitchen counter while I ran around with the broom, trying to herd birds out the window.”
They all chuckled. “That must have been an image,” Buffy said, shifting in her bad once again. “Wish I could have seen it.”
Xander laughed lightly. “I’m glad you didn’t, thank you very much.”
Willow grinned in agreement. “Yeah. What would Angel say?”
“What would I say about what?”
Buffy grinned for sure. “Hey!”
Angel smiled back, then at the rest of the group in the bedroom. “I bring sandwiches,” he said, raising the tray he was carrying slightly.
Buffy couldn’t help but look at him a bit oddly.
“Your mom was making them when I got here,” he explained at her look, putting the tray on the dresser. “I just carried them.”
“Thank you,” Buffy said easily, taking the sandwich he offered her.
Angel sat down on the floor next to the bed, taking a sandwich of his own. “So, what would I say about what?”
“Huh?” Buffy didn’t understand.
“I heard my name before I came in,” Angel clarified.
“Oh,” Buffy said, and felt herself blushing.
“We were talking about Xander in a towel,” Willow clarified, grinning from ear to ear.
Angel nearly choked on the bite he was taking.
“Willow!” both Xander and Buffy cried in embarrassment. Buffy looked at Angel, who was coughing. “Are you okay?”
Angel stopped sputtering and looked amused. “That was the last thing I expected to hear.”
Buffy couldn’t help but chuckle at the look on his face. The small laugh sent pain straight to her stomach.
“Okay, I think it’s time to call this visit short,” Willow said abruptly.
“No, Willow, you don’t have to go!” Buffy protested, sitting up further. That aggravated the wound again and she fought not to wince.
Willow frowned. “Uh uh. You’re in pain. We’ll visit you tomorrow.”
Buffy frowned, but part of her was relieved. She wanted to be cheerful for her friends, but she was in pain. She just had one objection to make. “You just got here,” she said to Angel sternly. “You stay.”
Angel chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”
Soon after, Willow, Xander, and Tara had bid their farewells, leaving Angel and Buffy to their own devices.
“Sit up here,” Buffy demanded, gesturing at space on the bed next to herself.
Angel hesitated a moment before sitting very carefully to cause a minimum of discomfort.
Buffy grinned at him. “So, where have you been all day?”
“Giles wanted to see me,” he replied. “He wanted to talk about the Phoenix prophecies he found.”
Buffy chuckled. “He wanted to pick your brain and say ‘hmm’ a lot.”
“Yeah, that about sums it up.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”
“You can’t be here all the time,” she pointed out to him smoothly.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to,” Angel explained. “I don’t like seeing you….”
“So helpless?” Buffy supplied.
“I was going to say ‘in pain.’”
Buffy frowned. “Yeah, well, I don’t like it either. I hate being confined. I feel antsy. I should be out there, protecting people. Right now I can’t even protect myself.”
“Let me do the protecting right now, okay?” Angel replied.
Buffy pouted. “If I have to.” She tried to cross her arms over her chest to make a good show of it, but that was a bit hard with the cast around her wrist. It was a lesser pain, but it hurt, too.
“Your mom sent up your pain killers with the sandwiches,” Angel said, reaching for the bottle of pills on the nightstand.
“They put me to sleep,” she complained.
“Then sleep,” Angel said. “Let your body heal.”
“But you just got here!”
Angel handed her the pills and a glass of water. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“You promise?”
He kissed her gently on the forehead. “I promise.”
Buffy was sound asleep when Angel left her room several minutes later. He was very careful not to disturb her as he got up from the bed, but she didn’t even stir. She looked so young and innocent at the moment that he had to smile slightly. Moving as quietly as two hundred and fifty years as a vampire would allow, he left the room and left her to sleep.
Backing into the hall, closing the door behind him, he ran directly into Mrs. Summers.
“Oh!” Buffy’s mom said in surprise.
Angel smiled, a bit embarrassed. “Sorry,” he whispered.
“Why are you whispering?”
Angel gestured towards the door. “She’s asleep.”
Joyce let out a sigh of relief. “Oh good. She needs it.”
There was a hint of concern in her voice that Angel caught and he looked at her worriedly. “Is something wrong?”
Joyce hesitated for a second. “We’ll talk downstairs, okay?” she suggested.
Angel nodded and followed Buffy’s mother down the stairs. He spared a thought to realize that he hadn’t actually spent much time in this house as even a tolerated guest. Far more often he’d snuck in Buffy’s window without Mrs. Summers even knowing he was there.
Sunlight flooded the downstairs, and Angel grinned. And under cover of darkness, yet.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Mrs. Summers said easily, leading him to the kitchen.
Angel smiled slightly. “I’m not used to being…welcome,” he explained.
Joyce smiled slightly. “It’s good for Buffy that you’re here,” she said. “She was…well, a mess is an understatement…after you, um, died.” She seemed reluctant to say that much and there were obviously other things on her mind. “She looks forward to seeing you every week. And look – sunlight.”
She smiled to soften the implication – Angel not being a vampire making all the difference – and Angel caught himself chuckling softly. Not being a vampire did make an amazing difference.
“The point is,” Joyce said at last, “that it’s good for Buffy that you’re here. It’s…good you’re here.” She looked a bit flustered at her own admission. “Um…would you like something to eat or drink?”
“No, uh, thank you,” Angel replied, just as surprised by what Buffy’s mother had just said as she apparently was. “There was something you wanted to talk to me about? I mean, aside from…?”
“I’m worried about Buffy,” she said abruptly.
Angel wasn’t really expecting her to say that. Not that the fact that she was worried surprised him. “We all are,” he said calmly. “But she’ll be okay.”
He expected her to smile and say something along the lines of ‘being an overprotective mother.’ Instead she lowered herself into a chair with a heavy sigh.
“What is it?” Angel asked, feeling his stomach tense in nervousness.
Still Joyce hesitated. “I haven’t told anyone else about this,” she explained.
Angel swallowed hard and was sure he paled. Demons didn’t scare him nearly as much as those words had.
Joyce went on regardless. “When Buffy was in the hospital, one of the doctors spoke to me. He was amazed at how fast she was healing. I could hardly tell him it was because she’s the Slayer, but for once I was glad she was. Because of how fast she was healing, they agreed to release her from the hospital early, and you know how Buffy hates hospitals.”
Angel nodded. “So what’s wrong?”
“If she can heal faster than a normal person, than why isn’t she better by now?” she asked helplessly. “I mean, she should be better by now, right?”
Angel thought about it for a second. “She was quite seriously injured,” he said calmly. “And there’s no time table on Slayer healing.”
Still Joyce did not look any happier. “Shouldn’t she have made some improvement, then?”
“Wait,” Angel said abruptly. “She’s not healing?”
“She’s healing very slowly,” Joyce clarified. “I’m afraid she may have to go back to the hospital, and I don’t want to do that to her.”
“I would have thought she’d do better at home,” Angel said, worry gnawing at his gut.
“She’s happier,” Joyce said. “I want her to be better, though.”
Angel nodded eagerly. “So does she.”
Joyce sat back in her chair with a sigh. “I just hope she heals soon.”
Angel said nothing for a moment. Buffy should have been healing. The fact that she had been and wasn’t now was certainly puzzling and a cause for worry. He hadn’t the faintest clue what was going on.
He swallowed his concerns and tried to put on a passive face for Mrs. Summers. “I’m going to check on her,” he said, and left without another word.
He didn’t want Joyce to know how truly worried he was. She had enough concerns without him confirming them. But if she was telling the truth…she was right; Buffy should be healed already. Or at least nearly so. There was no reason her healing should have been slowing down.
Or at least no reason Angel knew of.
He had to check on Buffy and then talk to Giles. Still, he had no desire to wake her, so he entered just as quietly as he had left. He opened the door slowly and froze at the sight that greeted him.
The bed was empty, and the windows open. Buffy was gone.
On to Part Eight
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