Buffy Summers (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
whattingawhat) wrote2008-08-25 12:54 pm
whattingawhat) wrote2008-08-25 12:54 pm
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It takes my pain away. It's a lie.[ A kiss with opened eyes. And she's not breathing back.]
[Hurt]
Relates to Danny's quadruple murder storyline
She nearly falls asleep in the ambulance, her fingertips resting on the pulse in Danny’s wrist. There was a minor squabble because the paramedic wanted Buffy to follow the ambulance in a police car. Buffy wanted to stay with Danny and was willing to break the paramedic’s nose to make that happen. Luckily for everyone, the paramedic saw reason.
She’s so exhausted that everything has a distant, surreal quality to it as they rush Danny into a room, trying to determine the extent of his injuries and what needs to be done. Unfortunately most of the injuries seem to be caused from his head impacting a concrete wall multiple times so beyond cleaning up the surface wounds, there’s not a lot they can do. Buffy hears them order a cat scan and it takes her a moment to realize there’s another nurse trying to decide where all the blood on Buffy is coming from. She shakes her head and pushes away, ducking into a bathroom so she can take stock of what exactly the nurse was worried about. There’s a gash on her arm just below her shoulder from where the bullet grazed her but there’s not a lot of blood. Her knuckles are bruised, the skin split across one on her right hand and there’s a half healed cut on her lip. Her cheekbone is mottled with the green-yellow of a bruise already fading and she lifts the edge of her blood-spattered tank top to find an ugly purple bruise on her lower back. She knows that’s where she got thrown into the corner of a dumpster by a vampire. She’s spattered with blood but little of it is hers. She washes it off, watching the water run brownish and finally clear. Buffy reaches behind her head to pull her hair up in a knot and realizes her ribs are sore. There’s an ache that thrums through her body and exhaustion threatens to drown her again so she slinks out of the bathroom to find where they’ve taken Danny. He’s in a room with two beds but the second one is empty. For a moment, she stands at the foot of the bed, taking stock of the damage. Each bruise, cut and scrape on Danny make her wince and she kind of wants to put him in a bubble like some cheesy seventies movie. There are reminders of how fragile he is scattered across his skin and it makes her aches and pains seem inconsequential. The pain that rips through her, taking her breath away isn’t her own but she feels it just the same.
Finally, fatigue wins the war it’s been waging against her for days and her gaze falls on the empty bed. She dismisses it because they’re likely to mistake her for a patient and its way too far from Danny. She’s not willing to be separated from him at all right now. The chair next to the bed is also deemed entirely too far away and there’s so much space in Danny’s bed. He’s little and doesn’t take up much room; she’s even smaller so she sheds her tennis shoes next to the bed and crawls into the bed, barely making the metal frame creak with her weight. She curls up next to Danny, careful not to move him too much. He mumbles something she can’t make out but quiets when she lays her hand on his chest over his heart. She can feel it thumping solidly in his chest and it’s easier to breathe. Her eyes slip closed and finally, she can sleep because she’s next to him and he’s alive and nothing hurts.
Relates to Danny's quadruple murder storyline
She nearly falls asleep in the ambulance, her fingertips resting on the pulse in Danny’s wrist. There was a minor squabble because the paramedic wanted Buffy to follow the ambulance in a police car. Buffy wanted to stay with Danny and was willing to break the paramedic’s nose to make that happen. Luckily for everyone, the paramedic saw reason.
She’s so exhausted that everything has a distant, surreal quality to it as they rush Danny into a room, trying to determine the extent of his injuries and what needs to be done. Unfortunately most of the injuries seem to be caused from his head impacting a concrete wall multiple times so beyond cleaning up the surface wounds, there’s not a lot they can do. Buffy hears them order a cat scan and it takes her a moment to realize there’s another nurse trying to decide where all the blood on Buffy is coming from. She shakes her head and pushes away, ducking into a bathroom so she can take stock of what exactly the nurse was worried about. There’s a gash on her arm just below her shoulder from where the bullet grazed her but there’s not a lot of blood. Her knuckles are bruised, the skin split across one on her right hand and there’s a half healed cut on her lip. Her cheekbone is mottled with the green-yellow of a bruise already fading and she lifts the edge of her blood-spattered tank top to find an ugly purple bruise on her lower back. She knows that’s where she got thrown into the corner of a dumpster by a vampire. She’s spattered with blood but little of it is hers. She washes it off, watching the water run brownish and finally clear. Buffy reaches behind her head to pull her hair up in a knot and realizes her ribs are sore. There’s an ache that thrums through her body and exhaustion threatens to drown her again so she slinks out of the bathroom to find where they’ve taken Danny. He’s in a room with two beds but the second one is empty. For a moment, she stands at the foot of the bed, taking stock of the damage. Each bruise, cut and scrape on Danny make her wince and she kind of wants to put him in a bubble like some cheesy seventies movie. There are reminders of how fragile he is scattered across his skin and it makes her aches and pains seem inconsequential. The pain that rips through her, taking her breath away isn’t her own but she feels it just the same.
Finally, fatigue wins the war it’s been waging against her for days and her gaze falls on the empty bed. She dismisses it because they’re likely to mistake her for a patient and its way too far from Danny. She’s not willing to be separated from him at all right now. The chair next to the bed is also deemed entirely too far away and there’s so much space in Danny’s bed. He’s little and doesn’t take up much room; she’s even smaller so she sheds her tennis shoes next to the bed and crawls into the bed, barely making the metal frame creak with her weight. She curls up next to Danny, careful not to move him too much. He mumbles something she can’t make out but quiets when she lays her hand on his chest over his heart. She can feel it thumping solidly in his chest and it’s easier to breathe. Her eyes slip closed and finally, she can sleep because she’s next to him and he’s alive and nothing hurts.