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“They’re going to do what?” Buffy asked her mother when they’d returned with her tea and a sandwich for Buffy.

“Putting a stint in one of his heart vessels to open it up and let the blood flow again,” Joyce explained, rather calmly.

Buffy took a deep breath, “That doesn’t sound scary at all,” her tone saying the opposite.

“It’s quite common, they tell me,” Joyce said, taking a shuddering breath.
William took her hand, “It’ll be all right, Joyce.”

Buffy hugged her mother quickly and kissed her cheek. She sat down with her mother, holding her hand, until the walls started close in on her, making her anxious. She felt the need to break free, gather herself and then be there again for her mother and Will.

She looked over at William. “Will, I um-- can you stay with her for a minute?”

He nodded, “Where are you going?”

“I just . . . I just need some air.”

He nodded, “Okay Buffy.” He didn’t look as if he wanted to let her go, but he did and that was what mattered at that moment.

Walking briskly down the hall, her eyes welled up for what felt like the millionth time that day and she shook her hands – a nervous tick – to try and gain control of herself. Bursting through the exit, she inhaled deeply the cool night air. Pressing her bum against the brick wall, she bent at the waist and took another deep breath as she stared at the ground.

Straightening, she looked up at the night sky and on the first star she saw she recited “Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might have this wish I wish tonight.” She paused and closed her eyes. “I wish for my Dad to be okay. Please, please, please let my Dad be okay.”

*******************************************************
“Buffy, he’s in his room and he’s fine. I am telling you to go home. I am going to stay here with him for the night okay?” Joyce said softly and yet sternly to a nerve-wracked Buffy.

“He’s really okay?” Buffy asked.

“He’s really okay,” Joyce said. “Now go. Come by in the morning after you’ve gotten some rest, all right?”

Buffy nodded numbly.

William, who’d watched the exchange, silently thanked Joyce. Buffy looked about ready to drop. Her eyes were puffy and red with dark circles forming under them. She was pale and withdrawn and it was time for her to get away from the hospital. He was almost tempted to ask the doctor for a sedative for her. Anything to help her sleep –and hell, him too.

Now that Hank was out of surgery, he felt much better. Relieved. He knew the old man would pull out of it fine. He knew Buffy would still worry, for worry over a parent when something happened to them never did truly go away.

Note to self, he thought, call your father tomorrow.

“I’ll take her home, Joyce,” William assured her and gave her a hug.

“Thank you, William,” Joyce said. She looked to Buffy, sternly, “I mean it. Get some sleep. If you have to take a sleeping pill, do it. I do not want you up all night. You won’t be any help to your father like that.”

Buffy nodded wearily.

William took Buffy’s hand and gave it a tug. “Come on Princess. Let’s go.”

Buffy followed him wordlessly. At this point he wasn’t sure if she was working it out in her mind that everything was fine or if she was too tired to even think anymore. It’d been hard to watch her leave to get some air. He’d been torn between being there for Joyce and going after Buffy. Joyce at least showed her emotions. But, seeing as Buffy had opened up to him earlier in the bathroom and had given him some insight into how she worked things out, he let her go.

And he’d watched the clock tick by. He’d prayed for Hank and comforted Joyce and willed Buffy to come back so that he could see for himself that she hadn’t completely lost it. When she’d come back twenty minutes later, she’d sat down next to her mother and held her hand in silence.

Waiting was the worst and it had never been William’s strong suit. Nor Buffy’s apparently because after some time she’d gotten up to pace.

Leading her to his car, he figured it was best to be patient and let her guide the situation on if she wanted to talk or not. She kept silent and looking back at her; he knew she was fading fast. Probably the best thing for her too.

Once she’d settled in his car, she propped her elbow up on the door and rested her head on her hand. “I’m tired,” she said softly.

“I can see that,” he said as he started the car. “Must feel better about things though, right?”

She nodded and yawned. “Do you?”

“Much,” he said as he pulled out of the parking lot, heading towards the road.

“You did promise,” she said on a sigh and smiled lightly at him.

“I did at that,” he grinned.

“Will you take me to my house? I want to go home to my house.”

“Of course. Do you . . . do you want me to stay with you?” and he braced himself for her answer.

“Yeah, I don’t think I can be in the house alone without . . . “

“Anything you need, Buffy.”

She yawned again and her eyes drifted shut.

“I love you, Buffy,” he said softly.

“Mmmm . . . love you too, Will,” she murmured.

He nearly drove off the road, so startled by that comment he was. “Buffy?” he said urgently, needing clarification.

She was out like a light.

He swore under his breath, wondering if she was even aware of what she’d said. Was it something he could bring up later or was it something she’d just said as she’d fallen asleep and therefore possibly – only possibly meant nothing?

But didn’t confessions while falling asleep mean something? He shook his head. Probably not. Just wishful thinking on his part.

Maybe. He’d hold out for a maybe.

************************************************************

Buffy’s eyes shot open as memories from the day before rushed in her mind. She sat up straight, her heart hammering in her chest. She placed her hand over it and then scrambled out of bed in search of her clothes. What time was it and who was –?

“William,” she said when her green eyes met blue.

“Buffy, what are you doing?” he asked sleepily as he looked over at her from the bed. He was all rumpled from sleep still and looked like he could use a few more hours.

“My Dad. I want to get to the hospital. It’s . . .” she peered over at her alarm clock, “Nine. I need to shower and get over there.”

“Wait for me, I’ll drive you.”

“Are you – are you not going into work?”

He gave her a look.

“Right, stupid question,” she agreed, nodding and gathered some clothes.

“Mind if I use the guest bathroom?” he called out after her.

“No, help yourself!” she called back and rushed to the bathroom to get ready.

***********************************************************

Being able to finally see Hank was a relief for William. He’d entered the room with Buffy in trepidation. He sensed that Buffy felt the same way from the way she’d tensed before they walked in and had let go of his hand.

He couldn’t blame her at all for that considering the last time Hank had seen them together he’d crumpled to the ground from a heart attack. It would take a while to get that image out of his mind, along with the feeling that it could happen again.

Hank had seemed sore and tired, but other than that, in good spirits. He showed no ill will towards William and Will wondered if maybe that meant Hank would give his consent. He of course didn’t want to ask; when Hank was ready, Hank would talk. Until then William kept things light.

The man had shaken Will’s hand heartily and Will helped himself to a hug.

“Thanks for being here with them,” Hank whispered to him.

“Of course,” William said and it was left at that.

When his friend started to get sleepy, they decided it was best to go. Hank insisted that Joyce go home and get some rest; he was going to, so she might as well in the comfort of her own bed. Joyce had hesitated until Buffy spoke up and told her it was a good idea and that she’d take her home.

William figured he’d take the same advice and get some sleep as well. He’d slept restlessly the night before and his body was screaming at him to get some sleep. He told Buffy he’d stop by later and pick her up if she wanted to visit her father again and she’d readily agreed, even giving him a quick kiss as they parted ways.

Things were looking up.

***********************************************************

Buffy had seen to making sure her mother was in bed and sleeping peacefully before she decided to head out to school and speak with her professor’s over the classes she’d missed and gather her homework.

She was on her way back from the school, pondering the changes her father would have to make in his lifestyle and what she could do to make the transition easier for him when a memory slammed into her. It was simple, something that had passed through the transits of her mind the day before, but had not had enough time to dwell on considering her primary focus had been her father’s well being. But now . . . now the thought – the memory – began to take life and grow.

It was of Harmony, asking her how her weekend had been, and of Hank, with pictures of her and William.

Her blood began to boil as she considered the one person who would have been twisted enough to have them followed and have pictures taken of them, and the one person who had been sick enough to send them to her father, knowing, possibly, how he’d react to them.

Not knowing however, that he’d work himself up in such a tizzy, he’d land himself in the hospital.

For that, Drusilla was going pay.

Taking a left, when she should have taken a right to head back home, Buffy headed on her way to the office.

She was going to pay Drusilla little visit and considering how angry she was at the moment – and growing considerably by the second – Drusilla was going to be lucky if she made it out alive.





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