Disclaimer: They're not mine *sniffle*
Author's Notes: This deals with a very sensitive subject, so just be warned…Also, there's gonna be major angst. It starts out with a lot of B/R, but there will be B/A later, I promise.
Timeline: Sixth season Buffy, but it fits with the show through "The Replacement"…

Part One—The Girl

The university was having a blood drive. Give a pint, get a cookie. I laughed about it.

"I spend my life keeping blood *in* people's bodies," I pointed out to my friends. "And now they're all intent on giving it away!" I rolled my eyes and we all chuckled, and it was decided that we would go together and give blood, my boyfriend and I. Then I was going to lurk nearby and make sure no unwelcome visitors showed up to the All You Can Eat bloodfest.

No unwelcome visitors showed up. I gave blood (my boyfriend was sick that day and stayed home), lurked, and then went out to dinner with my friends.

I've had blood drawn before, at doctor's checkups and stuff, but never since…since my blood was taken through other means. Twice. It'd happened three times of course, but the first is still all fuzzy…As the needle pierced my skin and I watched the syringe fill with the dark, thick liquid from my veins—with me—I couldn't stop thinking about the ones I remember, the two almost-men that had stolen my blood from me. No, that's not true. For one, it was a gift, freely given. I don't regret that. The other…I stole blood back. So I guess it was even in the end.

That's what I thought then. Even. And then I didn't think about it anymore.

Part Two

"Ewww…" Buffy murmured, staring at her tongue in the bathroom mirror. She leaned closer, eyeing the whitish stuff covering her tongue.

"We've regressed to kindergarten, have we?" Riley teased from the doorway. Buffy turned and stuck her tongue out at him, then covered it up quickly as she remembered how it looked.

"I have stuff on my tongue," she complained. "It's all…white. And gross."

"I don't mind," Riley murmured, slipping his arms around her waist. Buffy laughed softly and turned, tilting her head up to kiss him.

"Good. Cause if it's some kind of infection, I'm fully intending to give it to you!" she exclaimed, escaping his hold and slipping back across the hall into her bedroom. Riley followed, grinning easily and shut the door behind himself.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Just a sec," Buffy muttered, ducking down to look for her second platform sandal under the bed. There was a knock on the door and Riley went to answer it, laughing at his girlfriend's frantic search.

"Hi!" Willow greeted Riley enthusiastically when he opened the door. She, and Tara close behind, walked into the room, followed by Dawn who looked seriously annoyed. "Happy birthday Buffy!"

"Are you guys almost ready?" Tara asked.

"Buffy's looking for her…" Riley began, cut off by Buffy's "Aha!" as she emerged from beneath her desk holding up the shoe and grinned at her newly arrived friends.

"Are you guys going soon?" Dawn demanded.

"We're going soon," Buffy promised. "Now, will you get out of my room?" Dawn rolled her eyes and flounced out of the room. Buffy rolled her eyes in turn and slipped the sandal on. She didn't actually *live* in the house anymore, but as a favor to her mother she and Riley had spent the night before there while Joyce was out of town. Now Dawn got to spend the rest of the day by herself…or at least until Joyce came home that afternoon. Buffy's mother was still a tad overprotective. "Ready!" Buffy announced. "Thanks Will."

"I'm so excited!" Willow exclaimed, nearly bouncing as they left Buffy's room and started down the stairs. "This is gonna be so much fun."

"Breathe Will," Buffy laughed. "It's no good hyperventilating before we get to the concert. Just wait until you see Rob Thomas. Then I give you complete permission to forget how to breathe." She glanced at Tara, smiling suddenly. "Or not."

"I like Rob Thomas," Tara replied with a shy twinkle in her eye. Riley was regarding the whole lot of them with horror.

"I cannot tell you how glad I am Xander's meeting us there," he laughed. Buffy poked him in the ribs.

"Someone's jealous!"

"No, just mortally injured," Riley replied, faking extreme pain. Buffy smiled at him unrepentantly and grabbed his hand as they headed towards the front door.

"It's my birthday, I'm allowed to kill you if I want." The phone rang and Buffy hesitated, then shook her head and grabbed her purse.

"Dawn can get it." The phone stopped ringing. "Dawn got it."

Buffy opened the door and set one foot out before Dawn's call came. "Buffy! Phone!"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I'm not here!" she shouted back up the stairs.

"It's the DOCTOR," Dawn shouted back. Buffy frowned, surprised, but sighed and went to pick up the downstairs extension.

"Hello?"

"Buffy Summers?" an unfamiliar voice asked. This was not *her* doctor…not the one she'd had since infancy…

"Uh-huh. Can I…help you?"

"This is Dr.Phelps. I work at the University Health Clinic."

"Okay. Is…everything okay? I haven't been to the clinic," Buffy said, confused. The doctor began to reply.

"I know. I need to—" Buffy cut her off, hearing something suspicious.

"DAWN!" she yelled up the stairs. "Get off! NOW!" There was a pause, and then a click. "Sorry," Buffy continued in a quieter voice. "Go on."

"Could you come in to the clinic? I need to see you."

"Today?" Buffy asked, beginning to get alarmed. What was this about? "I'm going to a concert…"

"As soon as possible," Dr.Phelps said seriously. "Can you come in tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure. I have class at 10, but I could, um, come in after that."

"11:30?" Dr.Phelps suggested.

"Yeah, that'd be fine."

"Good. Just ask the receptionist at the front desk, she'll point you in my direction."

"Thanks," Buffy said, still confused. "Is something wrong?"

"I'd like to talk to you in person, if you don't mind?"

"Um…sure…"

"Good, I'll see you tomorrow," Dr.Phelps replied firmly. "Thank you."

"Thanks," Buffy replied, still confused. This must be a mistake…how weird. "Look, I have to go…"

"That's fine. Tomorrow then."

"Right. Tomorrow. Bye." Buffy blinked and hung up slowly. That was weird. She stood there for a moment, her brow creased, staring at the phone.

"Buffy?" Riley asked gently. She started and turned around to where her friends were watching her with concern. "Is everything okay?" Buffy forced a smile.

"Yeah, of course, everything's fine. It was nothing. We should get going, don't want to be late!"

Riley didn't look entirely convinced, but he had a right not to be, and Buffy didn't have anything more convincing to say. She took his hand instead, and they walked out to the car. Buffy was twenty one that day.

*

"I think I'm going to throw up," Buffy muttered, rubbing at her forehead in an attempt to reduce her massive headache.

"Well that's what you get for staying out all night with Riley," Willow said smugly, looking way too chipper for her own good. Buffy groaned and shoved her friend nearly off the sidewalk, bringing an offended noise from Willow and a giggle from Tara. Buffy moaned at the shift in weight.

"I think I'm going to throw up," she repeated.

"You okay?" Willow asked, concerned finally.

"Yes, Will, I'm going to throw up out of joy," Buffy replied sarcastically.

"Sorry for asking," Willow teased, pretending to be offended.

"I didn't mean to get two hours of sleep," moaned the Slayer. "It just kind of…happened."

"Don't worry, we're just gonna get lunch and then you can go home and lie down," Tara comforted. Buffy frowned, something tugging at the edge of her mind.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"11:15. Why?" Willow replied. Buffy frowned, trying to remember, and suddenly jumped, then moaned at the feeling that caused her head.

"I have to go to the clinic," she replied. Willow and Tara exchanged worried glances.

"Why? Buffy, what happened? Are you—"

"No, no, I'm fine. I just have to see this doctor lady. Which way is the clinic?" she asked, squinting at the university paths around her. Willow took one of her arms and began leading her in the right direction.

"Why do you have to see the doctor?"

"Who knows? It's probably a mistake anyway." Buffy unsuccessfully suppressed a half-yawn, half-groan. "I just have to go and see her."

The walk was not particularly stimulating, as every step shot pain through Buffy's head. "I am never drinking again," she promised. "Willow, if I ever drink again, shoot me."

"Will do," Willow promised.

"Once is enough," Buffy repeated. "I don't want to turn twenty one ever again."

"Check, no more twenty first birthdays," Willow agreed.

"That shouldn't be a big problem," Tara assured her. Buffy managed a nod, and then lapsed into hungover silence. Riley didn't have any classes that morning. Lucky bastard.

"Here we are. We'll wait out here. Right?" Willow asked, turning to Tara for confirmation.

"Sure."

"Thanks," Buffy said, smiling wanly, and staggered in to the clinic. There was a student at the front desk.

"Dr. Phelps?" Buffy asked. "I have an appointment."

"Buffy Summers?" Buffy nodded. "Down the hall, third door on the right." Buffy muttered a thanks and managed to walk somewhat steadily down the hall to knock on the appropriate door.

"Come in." She opened the door to regard a middle-aged well-dressed woman sitting at a large desk. Buffy closed the door behind her and scooted to a seat at a wave of Dr. Phelps' hands.

"Buffy Summers, I presume?" Dr. Phelps asked.

"That's me. What is this all about?" Buffy asked, her mind beginning to function again as she took in the surroundings. She was sitting in a doctor's office the morning after her twenty first birthday. Why?

"I have some bad news," Dr. Phelps said. Buffy frowned. Those were never good words. But how…what could a University doctor have to tell her? "Two weeks ago you donated blood to the University blood drive. We test all the blood that's donated for certain diseases which would render them…unusable."

Buffy blinked, trying to process this information. What was wrong with her blood? What could be wrong with it? Her head was all muzzy, and the doctor's voice seemed to be very far away. What was she saying?

"W-what's wrong?" Buffy heard her voice asked, as if it were detached from the rest of her. Dr. Phelps leaned forward, clasping her hands on the desk and looked straight at Buffy.

"Please don't panic. Let me assure you, Ms. Summers, that there are numerous treatments for this, and it in no way—"

"What?" Buffy demanded, her voice terribly clear, cutting through the excuses. Dr. Phelps looked her straight in the eye and answered.

"Ms. Summers, I'm afraid your blood tested positive for the HIV virus."

Part Three-The Girl

We learned about it in health class of course—though it didn't help I missed most of that unit for some demon slaying project. I knew what it was, and how you got it. Which is why I'd always been so careful around injured people, bleeding people, and with sex. Not with Angel…but he was a vampire. And he hadn't had sex for over 100 years. He wasn't about to give me AIDS.

It was something that happened to other people. To people who weren't careful, who used drugs, or didn't use condoms.

And then it happened to me, but it wasn't because of drugs or sex. It was because of blood.

Blood—thick, dark, coppery blood. I can still feel the taste of it in my mouth. The images it conjured lurk in my subconscious all the time. Power, darkness… Life.

And death.

I knew I would die young, but I never thought it would be like this.

Part Four

"My friends are outside," Buffy said dully, what seemed like an eternity later. She'd been assured this was the truth, and she'd realized how she'd been exposed…And now her mind was slowly returning to reality, from that other place it had been in.

AIDS. How could she have AIDS? No, that wasn't true…she didn't have AIDS. She had HIV. Big difference. And she was going to keep it that way.

"Do you want me to get them?" Dr. Phelps asked gently. Buffy was shaking her head before she'd even begun to think of what she wanted.

"No," she said softly, automatically, then looked up to meet the doctor's eyes. "This is confidential, right? This is all confidential?" Phelps nodded. "I don't want to tell them. Could you…could you tell them the appointment was a mix-up, but I'm staying to lie down for a little while? Tell them I said they should go to lunch?"

"If that's what you want," Dr. Phelps said neutrally.

What Buffy wanted was to have her best friend with her at that moment, hugging her tightly. What Buffy wanted was to go back in time two years to stop herself from drinking Dracula's blood…

What Buffy wanted was friends that didn't spend all their time worrying about her.

"Yes," Buffy replied firmly. Dr. Phelps watched her for a long moment, then nodded. She stood and walked out of the office, leaving Buffy alone with the disease she was determined not to have.

She wanted to pretend it was gone, and therefore make it go away. But there was someone she did have to tell.

*

The phone was ringing. It took Riley a long time to realize what the annoying sound was, then he flopped over and reached for the receiver, trying to think through the muddle of his brain.

"Riley," he said into the phone, lying sprawled across the bed, his eyes still closed.

"It's Buffy." Riley's eyes opened and he frowned. She sounded like she'd been crying.

"Is everything okay?" he asked quickly, his mind clearing rapidly.

"Not exactly," Buffy whispered, her voice odd, forlorn. Riley sat up, wondering how quickly he could be out the door.

"What's going on? Where are you?"

"I'm at the University clinic. I'm okay. Everyone's…okay for now. Just…you have to come down here. Please."

"The clinic? Of course I'll come. Are you all right?"

"For now." Riley blinked at the ominous words. What was going on? If something had happened, Buffy would tell him…right?

"I'm on my way." Riley hung up the phone and threw off the blankets, dressing quickly and hurrying out of the apartment without even washing his face.

He drove recklessly. Buffy would yell at him if she knew…though come to think of it, maybe not. She hadn't sounded normal. What was going on? If anything were really wrong, she'd be at the hospital, not the clinic…so why had Buffy been crying?

The student at the front desk pointed him down the hall. He ran a hand through his hair and hurried. Inside the small office Buffy sat in a large chair, blond hair obscuring her face from his sight. Behind a desk sat a woman—Dr. Phelps, her nametag read.

Buffy looked up at the sound of the door and stared at him with brilliant, intense green eyes. Riley walked over as if drawn and knelt beside Buffy's chair, looking up at her, his heart contracting, unable even to ask what was going on.

"I'm so sorry," Buffy whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?" Riley managed. Buffy closed her eyes for a long moment, and then opened them, looking down at him with tears slipping down her cheeks.

"Riley, I'm HIV positive."

*

At first, they'd used condoms every time. After about a year Buffy decided she wanted to go on the pill, so they were both tested for STIs, even though they both knew they didn't have any. Their tests came back clean.

That was a few months after Dracula. Now, over a year later, Buffy knew it would be her fault if Riley had HIV.

"How soon can I find out?" Riley asked the doctor.

"Two weeks," Dr. Phelps replied. "Once we're done here one of the nurses will draw blood and send it off to the lab."

"Two weeks," Riley whispered. Buffy closed her eyes again, unable to handle the sight of him, so sweet and trusting once, now worried for his life. Because of her. It was her fault.

She tried to imagine her mother's reaction. Tried to imagine what Giles would say, would do…And stopped herself. She wasn't going to tell them. She wasn't going to hurt them more. She had super healing powers, didn't she? They didn't need to know…She'd probably be dead before the disease even manifested itself…She wasn't going to hurt them like that. They worried enough already. All of them, her friends, her family—they worried too much already. No more.

"We'll get through this," Riley was saying, snapping her mind back to the present. "I promise, we'll get through this together."

Buffy started shaking her head, though she couldn't really explain why. But Riley wasn't paying attention to her gesture. Probably a good thing, she had no idea what it meant. She didn't exactly feel in control of her own body at the moment. It was detached. There was her mind—Buffy. And her body—the thing that had HIV.

"My tongue," she said suddenly. Dr. Phelps, who had been reading in order to give them a sense of privacy, focused back on Buffy.

"What about your tongue?" Buffy hesitated, then stuck it out so the doctor could see the white all over it. Dr. Phelps nodded.

"That's called thrush. It's a common symptom of HIV and AIDS. Your immune system is weakening. There's a specialist at the Sunnydale Hospital that can treat it along with any other symptoms."

"Of course," Buffy agreed numbly. She had symptoms, already. Just like that. She was twenty one and she had symptoms of AIDS.

"Here's his card. You can make an appointment with his secretary, I spoke to her and she said he's willing to clear his schedule for new HIV patients." Without thought, Buffy reached for the extended card. She sat back in her chair and stared at it for a long moment, not really seeing the writing. New HIV patients. That's what she was now. Riley put a hand on her arm and she started and put the card into her purse.

"Buffy, this is not the end of the world," Dr. Phelps assured her quietly. "I know it seems overwhelming right now, but there are very good medications for AIDS, and more are being found every day. You can still live a long and healthy life."

Buffy nodded, not really listening. Healthy, hmm? How healthy was that? Healthy enough to fight every day? Healthy enough to save the world?

"Thank you," Riley said, since Buffy obviously wasn't going to say it.

"Do you have any more questions?" Dr. Phelps asked. "I can't answer all specifics, but…"

Buffy shook her head. "I just want to go home," she said softly, though she wasn't entirely sure where she meant—the house she'd lived in with her mother and sister, or the apartment she shared with Riley.

"I'll take you home," Riley promised, stroking her hair back from her forehead. He grasped her hand and stood up, pulling her to her feet and slipping a hand around her waist, as if she already couldn't walk by herself. She was fine. Fine. She felt fine. A little headache-y from the hangover, but besides that…

How could she have HIV? She felt fine.

"You have to get your blood drawn," she reminded Riley as they started out.

"Can you get home yourself?" he asked softly, concerned. Buffy nodded.

"I feel fine," she promised him. He leaned in to kiss her, and she turned her head so it landed on her cheek. After all, she’d gotten this through her mouth. No use taking chances.

She couldn’t have given it to him. She just…couldn’t.

"I’ll be home as soon as possible," Riley promised, smoothing her hair again. Buffy nodded, wondering what she would say to him, what they would do. How could she talk to him, knowing she might have killed him?

"Good luck," she whispered, and slipped her hands out of his grasp, walking down the hall alone, her shoulders squared against the outside world. As she walked down the hall, out of the clinic, Buffy looked back over her shoulder. Riley stood there, alone, watching her until she disappeared around the corner.

Part Five-The Girl

Our apartment was safe, a cocoon in which I could hide from the rest of the world. When I walked through the campus to the parking lot, I felt like everyone that looked at me knew. Like everyone that whispered was saying, "She has HIV." "Don't let her get too close."

I wondered if my friends would care. If I told them, would they be afraid to hug me? To hold my hand? To go patrolling with me in case I got a bloody nose?

Would Riley be afraid?

Riley.The man I might have killed. The man that loved me.

Loves me, maybe. I don't know. I never asked after.

I'm getting ahead of myself. First there was a car to walk to, a home to go to, a night to get through, a long, long, terrible night, haunted by possibilities of what would come, and visions of what had brought me there.

Blood. Blood and a sliced lip. The night I met Dracula I'd been fighting, and a vampire's punch had jammed the inside of my lip against my teeth, slicing it open. Allowing his blood into my blood stream 24 hours later. Without that, who knows?

Blood and a sliced lip. And it changed everything.