Slayerless

Xander Magnet

Slayerless 2/?


Author: Xander Magnet
Rating: PG-13 (for the moment, may get violent later)
Feedback: Yes please! FB is the only thing that keeps me writing! (well that and the fact that the stories keep coming through my head!) Email me!
Spoilers: post season three
A/N: Huge thanks to Bill for looking this over for me, and for providing the spark to start writing it again!

After nearly a week, they had settled into an uneasy routine. At any given moment at least one of them could be found at her bedside whilst the others tried to catch up on some sleep or deal with the mundanities of everyday life. Willow smiled a little as she realised that her view of the mundane was probably worlds, no galaxies, away from what normal people thought. Still, the Hellmouth seemed to have taken it’s annual summer break and all she really had to concern herself with was getting ready for the big scary world of college. And the now constant worry that she’d be doing that alone if her best friend didn’t wake up soon.
“D’you hear that Buff? You have to wake up, I’m gonna need a study-buddy and sorry to say it girl, but you’re it!” Even to her own ears that sounded a little callous and selfish. She lowered her voice so that the hovering medical staff wouldn’t hear her. “C’mon Buffy, I can’t do this alone, I need you.”
 
For a second she held her breath, willing her friend to open her eyes. But nothing. Willow sighed and gradually went back to talking about what had happened that day, sometimes she surprised herself that she could keep talking about nothing.

***

“C’mon G-Man, there has to be something there. Some reason why she…”
Giles sighed heavily, lifted the book from the young man’s unresisting grip and gently led him to the couch.
“Xander, for all Buffy’s strength and abilities as the Slayer, you have to remember she’s still human, as likely as you or I to suffer human injuries. I’d remind you that the very fact she lived through that crash is testament to her ability to survive. Had she been anyone other than the Slayer she would be dead.” Seeing the pain in Xander’s expression he softened his tone, “She will pull through this, you know she will.”
Unpredictable as always, the young man jumped up from the couch and began to pace the relatively small confines of Giles front room.
“But I have to do something! There has to be some spell or something, something in the old journals about how to get a Slayer out of a coma?” He stopped briefly to gauge Giles reaction. The older man just took his glasses off and shook his head slowly.
“I understand you want to help, but the best option is to follow the doctors advice, talk to her, be there. It will help.”
Xander shook his head and continued pacing, “Maybe that’ll work for you and Willow but I have to do… something!”
“What? What can you do?” There was a harsher than normal tone in Giles voice now.
“I don’t know! There has to be something though, I can’t just sit here!”
“And what, do you think you’re the only one feeling like this? Don’t you think I’d like to find some way to wake her up? Don’t you think I’ve tried?!”
The catch in Giles’ voice stopped Xander in his tracks. Of course everyone else was feeling useless right now, he knew he was being selfish but somehow it didn’t seem to stop him from lashing out. Maybe he really was a Harris after all.

***

She tried to focus but it was all so blurry. She could hear the voice, could picture the worried face of the speaker but try as she might she couldn’t put a name to that face. Forcing herself to concentrate, she pushed past the pain forming in her mind… a flower - no, that wasn’t right, although it was close. A plant then, a tree? That was it! W… Wil… Willow! A wave of joy spread through her as she recalled the name of the girl holding her hand like a lifeline. And then, almost in the same instant, a wave of pain followed, so intense that she screamed in the silence of her mind and felt her grip on reality fall away from her.
 
Again she found herself floating, spent, in the warm glow of her mind

***

“So you don’t know when she’ll be back then?” Giles listened for a second.
“Yes, well if you could get her to call me as soon as she gets in. It is rather urgent.” Another pause. “Yes, thank you. Goodbye” He replaced the telephone handset in its cradle with another sigh. It seemed he was doing that a lot recently, both sighing and telephoning. Joyce Summers had given him a list of contact numbers before she left on the gallery tour in case there was an emergency. And here he was, an emergency on his hands and he couldn’t track her down at all. He was loathe to tell the disinterested gallery attendants on the other end of the line what the problem was, he didn’t want Joyce to hear of her daughter’s condition from a stranger and yet he had doubts that any of his messages had gotten through to her. Maybe he should just tell the next gallery on the list exactly what the emergency was, that way he could be sure the message would reach her. Or could he?
 
Sighing again, he picked up the phone and checking the next number on his list, dialled it carefully; he took a deep breath and waited for the banal voice that would undoubtedly answer him.
“Yes, hello. I wonder is Joyce Summers there at all?” Pause. “No? Oh, do you know when she’s expected?” There was a longer pause during which he rolled his eyes.
“Could you get her to call me as soon as she arrives. It’s a bit of an emergency…”

Back to Chapter One

Home

Onto Chapter Three