{buffyverse} waiting room
Title: Waiting Room
Author: aaronlisa
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Pairing/Characters: Willow Rosenberg/Angelus
Rating: FR13
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon and company.
Prompts: Written for 10_hurt_comfort for the prompt of waiting room.
Notes: Set during 2x18 "Killed By Death."
Summary: Willow has an unlikely source of comfort in the hospital.
Word Count: 814
Willow has always hated the hospital. Her parents had tried to get her to overcome her hate and fear but she had always disliked the smells, the sense of pain and loneliness that lingers in the air, and the deceptively calm voices of the doctors and nurses. In her association with Buffy Summers, her dislike had only become worse. She's lost count of all the time she's found herself in the emergency room waiting room while none of the staff have ever questioned any of them for their wounds or abrasions once. They were quietly and efficiently patched up and sent along their way.
As she sits in the waiting room now waiting for her turn to visit with Buffy, Willow can't help but think that the staff at Sunnydale General are either completely oblivious or working with the monsters. She tries to lose herself in her history text book but her unease causes her to remain unfocused. The worry that Buffy's battling a monster that she can only see while sick consumes Willow. How can Buffy fight a monster while she's ill?
Willow becomes rigid when a hand reaches out and plays with her hair. Her nostrils flare as she inhales the familiar scent of Angel but she knows that it's Angelus behind. She cautiously turns her head to face him even as her heart is pounding in her chest. She is full of worry and fear.
"Willow," Angelus quietly says to her.
Before she can even think of running, his hand pulls her hair hard enough to cause her eyes to water. Willow blinks to clear the tears from her eyes and she remains still as she waits for him to say something.
"Word is that the Slayer might die of the flu."
"She's not dying," Willow protests.
Angelus smirks at her as he runs his other hand up and down her back in a strangely soothing motion. He leans forward, closer to her, in a parody of comfort.
"She wouldn't be the first Slayer to fall victim of influenza."
"She's not dying," Willow says, with less force than before because she knows just how dangerous things are, just how sick Buffy really is.
Angelus wraps his arm around and pulls her close so that her body is pressed to his chest. He rests his chin on her head. And for a moment, Willow allows herself to draw some comfort from the illusion. He smells just like Angel did and she had imagined Angel comforting her like this in the past. She can ignore the tight leather pants and the silk shirt as she rests in his arms.
Her friend might very well die and the only person to give her any sort of comfort is Angelus,. Willow knows that she should pull away but she seems unable to do so. Her body refuses to listen to the commands of her mind. Not when Angelus remains silent as he runs his hand up and down her arm in reassuring strokes. It doesn't matter that he will undoubtedly somehow use this moment of weakness against her in the very near future. All that matters is that someone is holding her and she can pretend that everything is going to be fine in the end.
"I'm not him," Angelus murmurs.
"I know."
And that what hurts her the most .Angel would never have done this for her. He'd save her life but he'd never offer her comfort. The monster that wears his face is the only one to be there for her, to comfort her when she needs it most. And somehow she realizes in that moment, that she's always known that Angelus isn't Angel.
"Good," Angelus finally replies as he pulls her closer.
Willow loses tracks of time and she's uncertain of how long they remain silently locked in that embrace. It's Angelus who finally pulls away. His movements are strangely gently as he brushes some of her hair of her face. If she wasn't aware of who he was and what he's done in the past, Willow would swear that he's looking at her tenderly but she knows better.
"I doubt that she will die," Angelus quietly tells her. "She'll live to annoy me another day."
"She will destroy you," Willow tells him, feeling stronger than before.
"Perhaps but the game's not over yet .So don't be so hasty to count me out."
Angelus smirks at her and Willow wants to ask him what game he's playing with her but she knows that she won't get a proper answer. Instead she watches as he leaves and she hopes that when she gets home that she won't find some form of devastation courtesy of Angelus. Willow hopes that he'll be satisfied in having toyed with her at the hospital, although she doubts that he'll be content in only leaving her unsettled and confused.
((END))
Author: aaronlisa
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Pairing/Characters: Willow Rosenberg/Angelus
Rating: FR13
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon and company.
Prompts: Written for 10_hurt_comfort for the prompt of waiting room.
Notes: Set during 2x18 "Killed By Death."
Summary: Willow has an unlikely source of comfort in the hospital.
Word Count: 814
Willow has always hated the hospital. Her parents had tried to get her to overcome her hate and fear but she had always disliked the smells, the sense of pain and loneliness that lingers in the air, and the deceptively calm voices of the doctors and nurses. In her association with Buffy Summers, her dislike had only become worse. She's lost count of all the time she's found herself in the emergency room waiting room while none of the staff have ever questioned any of them for their wounds or abrasions once. They were quietly and efficiently patched up and sent along their way.
As she sits in the waiting room now waiting for her turn to visit with Buffy, Willow can't help but think that the staff at Sunnydale General are either completely oblivious or working with the monsters. She tries to lose herself in her history text book but her unease causes her to remain unfocused. The worry that Buffy's battling a monster that she can only see while sick consumes Willow. How can Buffy fight a monster while she's ill?
Willow becomes rigid when a hand reaches out and plays with her hair. Her nostrils flare as she inhales the familiar scent of Angel but she knows that it's Angelus behind. She cautiously turns her head to face him even as her heart is pounding in her chest. She is full of worry and fear.
"Willow," Angelus quietly says to her.
Before she can even think of running, his hand pulls her hair hard enough to cause her eyes to water. Willow blinks to clear the tears from her eyes and she remains still as she waits for him to say something.
"Word is that the Slayer might die of the flu."
"She's not dying," Willow protests.
Angelus smirks at her as he runs his other hand up and down her back in a strangely soothing motion. He leans forward, closer to her, in a parody of comfort.
"She wouldn't be the first Slayer to fall victim of influenza."
"She's not dying," Willow says, with less force than before because she knows just how dangerous things are, just how sick Buffy really is.
Angelus wraps his arm around and pulls her close so that her body is pressed to his chest. He rests his chin on her head. And for a moment, Willow allows herself to draw some comfort from the illusion. He smells just like Angel did and she had imagined Angel comforting her like this in the past. She can ignore the tight leather pants and the silk shirt as she rests in his arms.
Her friend might very well die and the only person to give her any sort of comfort is Angelus,. Willow knows that she should pull away but she seems unable to do so. Her body refuses to listen to the commands of her mind. Not when Angelus remains silent as he runs his hand up and down her arm in reassuring strokes. It doesn't matter that he will undoubtedly somehow use this moment of weakness against her in the very near future. All that matters is that someone is holding her and she can pretend that everything is going to be fine in the end.
"I'm not him," Angelus murmurs.
"I know."
And that what hurts her the most .Angel would never have done this for her. He'd save her life but he'd never offer her comfort. The monster that wears his face is the only one to be there for her, to comfort her when she needs it most. And somehow she realizes in that moment, that she's always known that Angelus isn't Angel.
"Good," Angelus finally replies as he pulls her closer.
Willow loses tracks of time and she's uncertain of how long they remain silently locked in that embrace. It's Angelus who finally pulls away. His movements are strangely gently as he brushes some of her hair of her face. If she wasn't aware of who he was and what he's done in the past, Willow would swear that he's looking at her tenderly but she knows better.
"I doubt that she will die," Angelus quietly tells her. "She'll live to annoy me another day."
"She will destroy you," Willow tells him, feeling stronger than before.
"Perhaps but the game's not over yet .So don't be so hasty to count me out."
Angelus smirks at her and Willow wants to ask him what game he's playing with her but she knows that she won't get a proper answer. Instead she watches as he leaves and she hopes that when she gets home that she won't find some form of devastation courtesy of Angelus. Willow hopes that he'll be satisfied in having toyed with her at the hospital, although she doubts that he'll be content in only leaving her unsettled and confused.
((END))