by AntigoneUnbound » Tue Sep 16, 2003 2:05 pm
GODS SERVED AND ABANDONED
Part 47
Disclaimer: If I had had anything to do with the travesty of the last two seasons, would I have the gall to sit here and type as if I weren’t a total git? Of course not.
*****
Glory was gone, the door banging closed behind her as she triumphantly dragged Dawn out of the Magic Box. But it wasn’t Buffy that Willow was looking at; it was Tara, half-dragging herself over to her aunt. Willow was at her side in an instant.
“It’s bad,” Tara whispered, and Willow wasn’t sure if she was talking to herself, to Willow, or to all the gods and goddesses in a desperate entreaty.
Looking at the pale form protectively enfolded in Tanya’s arms, Willow saw that Tara was right. Beverly had turned at the sound of the shooter’s voice, and the bolt had entered her left shoulder; the tip and the very upper part of the shaft was protruding grotesquely through the back of her now-crimson shirt.
“Baby, please…C’mon, Sweetie…” Tanya’s voice turned angry. “Dammit, Bev, wake up! Don’t you even think about leaving me!”
Willow could see that Beverly’s breathing was irregular, her shirt moving in arrhythmic hitches as she struggled to draw breath.
“We have to get her to a hospital,” Tara said, her eyes never leaving her aunt’s face. Willow looked up to see Buffy and Giles standing over them, dread etched across their faces.
“We--we should try to get the arrow out of her,” Tanya said, her voice laced with desperation.
“No,” Giles practically shouted, stepping forward. “If we do so, it could worsen the bleeding immeasurably. Tara’s right--we need to get her to a hospital.”
“Right--right, a hospital.” Tanya was nodding frantically, as if this one word now held the fate of every dream she’d ever had.
“The bleeding seems to have slowed a little bit,” Willow said hopefully, knowing as she did so that there could be two very different reasons for this.
“I’ll call for an ambulance,” Giles offered, hurrying over toward the shattered counter.
“Willow…” Buffy’s tone held both urgency and reluctance. “Willow, Glory’s got Dawn.”
“Buffy, we have to take care of Beverly,” Willow replied, trying to keep the anger out of her own voice.
“Will, the ambulance will be on its way,” Buffy pleaded. “If we don’t want everyone to die--”
“What do you mean, ‘everyone’?” Tanya interrupted, her eyes blazing. “You’re assuming Beverly’s already gone? Toss her in a body bag and move on?” She was shouting now, her voice hoarse with rage for what was happening before her; terror for what might yet come. “Let me tell you something, Slayer, I don’t give a damn about this whole prophecy/Key/Chosen One bullshit. Everything I care about is right here in my arms, and she’s hurt and we’re taking care of her. So you just run along and do whatever heroic things you need to do, but--”
“Tanya!” Tara’s voice was sharp, uncharacteristically so. Willow realized that her lover’s eyes had never left Beverly, and now she, too, looked down at the dark-haired woman, and saw that her lips were moving.
Following their gaze, Tanya’s eyes widened. “Beverly--Baby, can you hear me? You’re gonna be OK, Baby…Just hang on, please.”
Willow realized that Beverly was trying to speak. “What is it, Baby?” Tanya asked, her voice breaking. “I’m here; help’s on the way.”
Willow strained to hear the words echoing dimly from Beverly’s lips…
“A little less shouting, please.”
Beverly swallowed heavily. “Got a bit of a headache.” Finally, her eyes opened, briefly, and Willow could see life flickering stubbornly in the brown eyes.
She could also see Tanya wavering between hope and fear. “Baby, the ambulance is on its way. Just hang on, Sweetie. They’ll be here any minute.” She looked up, and Giles nodded his confirmation.
Beverly forced herself to open her eyes with obvious effort, and swallowed once more. “No,” she whispered.
“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Tanya asked, brow furrowed.
“No hospital,” Beverly managed. “No time.”
Tanya set her mouth in a grim slash. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sweetie, but you need to be in a hospital, as of right now, and that’s where you’re going.”
“No.” The voice was stronger this time, and laced with a resolve that made Willow think that this easy-going woman was not one to be dictated to. “The wound’s not fatal, and I can’t be in a hospital; not now.” She licked her lips, and gazed up at Buffy. “She got Dawn, didn’t she?”
Buffy only nodded wordlessly.
“I’m sorry,” Beverly whispered. “I was supposed to protect her.”
“I was supposed to protect her,” the Slayer choked out. “I’m her sister.”
Looking back at Tanya, who had observed this exchange in disbelief, Beverly drew another deep breath. “Tanya, my work isn’t done. I can’t go anywhere until Dawn’s safe.”
“I am not hearing this,” Tanya muttered, her voice breaking. “You have to go to the hospital, Baby. You--God, you almost died, and you’re still in danger. The arrow’s so close to your heart…”
“Close only counts in horse-shoes and hand grenades,” Beverly replied, her mouth crooking upward in a half-grin. Willow heard the wails of an ambulance in the distance.
“Get rid of them,” Beverly said abruptly, her voice all business now.
“No,” Tanya hissed. “Dammit, Beverly, I am not losing you!”
“You won’t,” Beverly said evenly. “But if you love me--if you really know me the way I think you do--you know why I’m doing this. And you’ll help me.” They stared at each other, until Willow felt almost an intruder.
Outside, the sirens were drawing nearer. Looking up, Willow thought she could see reflections of their lights flashing against the rain-streaked windows.
Dragging her gaze back to the silent struggle that was playing out before her, Willow watched as tears cascaded down Tanya’s smooth skin, dropping silently onto Beverly’s shirt.
“I am in love with a total fool,” Tanya finally said, shaking her head. “You break my heart on this, Beverly Maclay, and I follow you in to the next life and dog you till you wish you’d never met me.”
“Won’t ever happen,” Beverly whispered with a small grin, and Willow didn’t know if she was talking about her death or the possibility of ever regretting Tanya’s place in her life. Looking up at Giles, Beverly said resolutely, “Get rid of ’em, Watcher Man.”
“Are you sure?” Giles asked, though Willow thought that his expression said he already knew the answer to the question.
Beverly nodded. “Got work to do; Keys to save.” She grinned. “Tea to drink.”
“Oh well, in that case…” Giles strode to the door just in time to greet the EMT’s.
“I’m afraid it’s been something of a false alarm,” he said smoothly. “A minor mishap, but not so serious as we originally feared.”
The first EMT, a wiry white man with dark hair, just nodded. The second, though, a tall Hispanic woman, had stepped further into the room and was now staring at the scene before her: a woman with an ugly projectile embedded in her shoulder.
“Holy shit,” she murmured.
“Looks worse than it is,” Beverly said cheerfully.
“Ma’am, you have--” She trailed off, uncertainly.
“Oh, this--yeah, it sorta stings, but nothing to worry about ,” Beverly replied, her voice the very essence of reassurance.
“You take bolts from cross-bows every day, do you?” the woman asked, eying Beverly steadily.
“Not as often as I used to, since I quit playing full-contact Dungeons and Dragons,” Beverly nodded agreeably.
Behind the second EMT, the first had taken in the scene. “Ma’am, we really should get you to the hospital.”
Beverly’s voice grew firmer--still very friendly, but also quite resolute. “I appreciate your concern, but I really am OK. Here--I’ll make it official: I do not require hospital services, and I politely decline your kind offer to assist me.”
The two medics looked at each other. Finally, the man shook his head. “We can’t drag her there,” he said, shrugging.
Looking back at Beverly, the second EMT said slowly, “No…no, we can’t. But if you need anything, please call me--immediately. My name’s Angelina Ramirez; I work for Alpha Ambulance Service.” Willow wondered absently why the woman hadn’t used the first-person plural to indicate their services. She also noted that Tanya hadn’t spoken during the entire exchange.
After another long look at Beverly, both medics turned reluctantly and left, the bell on the door jangling noisily.
“OK,” Beverly said, nodding decisively. “First things first: let’s get this thing out of my shoulder.”
“What about the bleeding?” Tara asked anxiously.
“It’ll be worse for a few minutes, but it’ll stop,” Beverly replied confidently.
“Baby, did you go to med school when I was at that conference last year?” Tanya interjected shakily. “Because I’m not quite sure how you can know that.”
“I just do,” Beverly said, shrugging. “Maybe the monks gave me a little extra healing power; maybe I have access to certain knowledge by way of the transformation process.”
“Maybe you have no blood circulating through your brain,” Tanya muttered. “What if you’re wrong?”
“I won’t be,” Beverly replied stubbornly. “Besides, I can’t walk around with this thing sticking out of my shoulder. What else can I do?”
“There’s always the crazy notion of the hospital,” Willow suggested tentatively, but Beverly’s arched brows told her that that suggestion had been vetoed.
“We can cut off the shaft end of the bolt,” Giles asserted, then paused, looking uncomfortable.
“And pull the rest out through the back of my shoulder,” Beverly finished for him.
“It will be quite painful,” the Watcher said quietly.
“Then the sooner we start, the sooner it’s over,” Beverly answered flatly. “Help me stand up.” Willow reached out, along with Tara and Tanya, and together they pulled her gently to her feet. She swayed once, but seemed to steady herself. As a group, they walked slowly to the big table in the library section and sat Beverly down gingerly.
Giles disappeared into the back room, reappearing moments later with a recently sharpened sword in one hand and their extensive first-aid kit in the other.
Buffy had watched all of this unfold without speaking. Now, she stood and held out her hand for the sword. Pausing only for a moment, Giles handed it to her. She turned to the wounded Protector.
“Bev, there’s no way this won’t hurt,” she said evenly. “But I can cut the bolt and remove it more quickly than anyone else.” She stopped, looking intently at the bleeding woman before her.
Without hesitation, Beverly replied, “I trust you.” Turning to Willow, she said, “Bring a few books over here.” In response to her questioning gaze, she added, “We’ll stack them on the table, until the bolt’s resting on top. That’ll make the cutting easier.” Willow nodded, and did as she was asked. As she did so, Tara grabbed a pair of scissors and gently cut away Beverly’s shirt from the wounds.
When she returned, they piled the books one on top of the other until the shaft of the bolt was laying evenly on the top-most book. Then Beverly reached out for Tanya with her left hand and Tara with her right.
Willow watched her squeeze both sets of hands with her own strong fingers, and then nod at Buffy.
“Let’s do this,” she said quietly.
To her credit, Willow thought, Buffy didn’t prolong the moment or try to say anything. She simply nodded, and then raised the sword and brought it down swiftly and surely on the bolt, as close to Beverly’s flesh as she could without breaking the skin.
Willow had expected a cry of some sort, but Beverly was just humming. Leaning closer, she discerned the chorus to “I Will Survive.”
“God, I hate that song,” Tanya muttered, swiping quickly at her tears.
Buffy had moved behind Beverly, peering at the head of the arrow protruding through her shirt. “Giles, be ready with the antiseptic,” she said curtly. “Bev, are you ready for this?”
“I don’t think a person really gets ready to have a cross-bow bolt pulled out of her shoulder,” Beverly replied. “I think she just says, ‘Pull that fucker out.’”
With the words, Buffy propped one foot against the curved bench, gripped the arrowhead tightly, and gave a savage, wrenching pull.
This time, Beverly did cry out, and she was joined by Tanya’s own anguished sob. Tara, Willow saw, was crying silently, never looking away from her aunt’s face.
Giles moved quickly, pouring antiseptic fluid over first the entrance wound and then its counterpart, in the back of her shoulder. Beverly had turned dangerously white, and Willow thought that she would surely pass out from the pain. Instead, she drew long, shuddering breaths, trying to steady herself. Willow helped Giles bandage both wounds, watching anxiously for signs of heavy bleeding. Beverly continued trying to breathe through her distress, focus herself to keep from passing out.
They sat like that for several moments, until Willow began to believe that the bleeding had indeed subsided. After ten minutes, the bandages showed only faint traces of pink.
“I think the monks did give you some sort of resistance, or resilience,” Giles commented finally, shaking his head. “It’s miraculous the bolt didn’t puncture any major arteries, or worse.”
“Yeah, well, the scabby little would-be assassin choked,” Beverly replied grimly, biting her lip against the pain. She looked up at Buffy. “This isn’t over yet, you have to believe that. We’ll get Dawn back.”
Willow thought that she had never seen Buffy look so demoralized. “How? We don’t even know where Glory’s taken her.” She shook her head, seemingly dazed. “I never should have taken her out of school. I should have left her there; Glory had no idea who she was…”
“If you’d done that, there’s no guarantee Glory wouldn’t have kidnapped her and used her as a bargaining chip, like you worried,” Willow pointed out. “Buffy, you did what you thought was best and you had good reasons for it. Now we have to get her back.”
She started as the annoying bell jangled once again; looking over, she saw Xander and Anya hurrying toward them.
“What happened?” Xander asked, his eyes taking in the damage. Catching sight of Beverly, he recoiled. “Glory.” He said it flatly, as if he already knew the answer.
Giles gave a commendably brief summation of what had happened.
“So the weeping referred to rain,” Xander said angrily. “Of course, I didn’t get it, not even when it was pouring.” He shook his head, sighing.
“Xander, Sweetie, we’re trying to keep a limit on the self-flagellation,” Tara said softly, resting her hand on his arm and giving him a tiny smile. He raised his head slightly, his eyes grateful.
“Giles, you keep any liquor around here?” Beverly asked abruptly. “I could use a shot or five.” Giles nodded, and walked quickly around the counter, pulling out a bottle of Dewars.
“Thanks, that helps,” Bev said gratefully after two impressive pulls on the bottle. “OK, we have to figure out where Glory’s taking Dawn.”
“She can’t have too much time left to complete the ritual,” Anya pointed out. “The rain’s supposed to stop early this evening.”
“Yeah, but then she can open the portal until love’s eye looks upon her,” Willow countered. “So that’s the time limit.”
“OK, if Glory’s going to open portals between dimensions, she’s going to need some room, right?” Buffy asked, looking around the room.
“I should think so,” Giles mused.
“So it’s probably outdoors,” Buffy continued. “Someplace spacious.”
“And tall?” Xander asked suddenly, looking at Giles and then the Slayer.
“That would probably serve her purposes as well,” Giles concurred. “What makes you ask?”
“Because there’s a big and very poorly-built tower going up over on the east side of town,” he answered excitedly. “Where that puke-ugly Super Wal-Mart used to be, pardon the redundancy.”
“The one that closed down when folks found out that the owner was a Corruptus demon?” Willow asked, peering at him.
“That’s the one,” Xander said, nodding. “The building was razed, but nothing’s gone up since then, until now. My company didn’t get the contract, and from the looks of it, no reputable company did. I wouldn’t even know about it if I hadn’t been over to that part of town a couple of days ago.”
“And it’s tall, you say?” Giles asked, leaning forward anxiously.
“Tall, and very shaky,” Xander said decisively. “Looks like it’s being built by a group of fifth-graders.”
“Or by some very unstable people working under an urgent deadline,” Tara suggested, looking at Willow.
“The mentally ill,” Giles said softly. “Let me check on something.” He rose abruptly, and made his way back to the telephone. He grabbed the phone book, and within a matter of seconds, he was punching numbers hastily.
From what she could hear, Willow discerned that he had called Sunnydale General Hospital to ask about its mental health ward.
“Several people left, against medical advice?” the Watcher was murmuring. “Yes, very interesting indeed.”
Returning to his seat, he sighed. “Tara was right--all of the patients who had been admitted with no prior history signed themselves out four days ago. The hospital couldn’t keep them there against their will; they posed no threat to themselves or others.”
“So that’s Glory’s construction crew,” Xander muttered. “Bet the pay sucks and the hours are worse.”
“Xander, that’s great,” Buffy said, seeming to regain some of her morale. “It’s a pretty good bet Glory’s over there, and she has Dawn with her.” She glanced around the table, taking in each of them with her gaze. “I say we gather up the weapons and head over there. Anybody who wants out, I understand.”
Willow, Tara, Giles, and Xander just shook their heads. Anya, it seemed, hesitated just a moment and then sighed and said, “Well of course I want to be there. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“OK, then,” Buffy nodded, setting her jaw. As she prepared to push back away from the table, Tanya looked up. Willow saw that her eyes were red-rimmed.
“A quick question,” she said quietly. Buffy just looked at her, waiting expectantly.
“What time does night fall around here?”
Willow stared at her in confusion. “Night fall?” she echoed.
“Right.” Still the eyes held little expression.
“Um…I believe it’s usually around 7:30 at this time of the year,” Giles said, his face suggesting that he was equally confused.
“And the rain’s supposed to end before then?” Tanya continued.
“Well, Accu-Weather didn’t say for sure,” Tara answered slowly. “They just said early evening.”
Beverly spoke up, her brow furrowed. “Tanya, what are you thinking?”
Tanya looked back at her partner, nodding slowly. “I’m thinking that ‘love’s eye’ has nothing to do with love and everything to do with the planet Venus.”
*****
To Be Continued
*****
Edited by: [url=http://pub106.ezboard.com/bthekittenthewitchesandthebadwardrobe36671.showUserPublicProfile?gAntigoneUnbound[/url] at: 9/16/03 6:21 pm
. I don’t know. I’m probably starting to suffer from too much fanfic and getting my stories mixed up. Forgive me if that’s the case. 
. Yeah, they should have taken a plane out of town.. Glory can't fly for all we know (yeah very shortly after being teleported but that doesn't count). The Magic Box being a known meetingpoint is precisly the reason NOT to meet there when trying to evade a hellgod for some hours.
She is too dang stubborn to die. I feel sorry for Tanya though, and I can't even imagine what she is going through having such a stubborn girlfriend and all.
