DISTRIBUTION: I'd feel honored! But please ask first so that I know where it's going:)
DISCLAIMER: I own none of the BtVS characters. They all belong to Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy, and other parties.
RATING: PG-14
FEEDBACK: Send! Send! Flames will be used to burn the potroast:)
SPOILERS: Um.. pretty much seasons one through four. Can't really elaborate more than that!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you can't deal with talk of rape, then I suggest you go read something else. Also, this is un-beta'd. And the title sucks:)
DEDICATION: To Shirlz, because her story "This Used to be My Playground" inspired me. Anyone who hasn't read it yet should definitely do so, 'cause it's really good!

*

She seemed to float. Voices drifted in and out of her subconcious mind, and she barely comprehended that this wasn't a dream.

Sounds muddled together, forming incoherent messages that she thought she should somehow know or remember but she just couldn't seem to grasp anything.

"Definite signs... raped.. injured.. suffering broken ribs and.. signs of fatigue.."

She managed to pull these words from the hazy coalesce of the abundantly confusing sea of images that she saw.

The people that she saw beneath her closed eyelids were actually not really images. They were simply translucent and blurry pictures that seemed to fade in and out of eachother, and just as she was about to recognize who this person was, it seemed to disappear.

Everything was turning white. The faces, the bodies, until everything was suddenly gone, having just dissipated into nothing.

She wanted to open her eyes, she wanted to see the concerned and familiar faces. But she couldn't.

Why couldn't she see them? Why couldn't she open her eyes?

*

Willow Rosenberg, Xander Harris, and Rupert Giles stood in their slayer's tiny hospital room, the doctor having just exited.

Willow clung to Xander's arm, desperately trying to keep her tears from falling, but not succeeding. The boy gripped the watcher's hand, his face hard as stone but his eyes revealing many emotions. The watcher only stared.

Never had they imagined in all their years that the slayer, the one who fought evil every night and saved mankind more than one could count, would fall at the hand of a man.

A seemingly normal, caring, kind man.

But no, this man hadn't been normal. The man had gone by the name of Steven, but his true name was Joahbe.

Joahbe hadn't been normal. A demon intent on destroying the slayer from inside out, normal couldn't even begin to describe him.

Giles had done the research, saying that Buffy's new boyfriend Steven looked just a bit too familiar for his liking. And he had been right. He figured it out only minutes after they had left, but it was too late.

Steven, or rather the demon Joahbe, had taken her into an alley, raped her, and then had attempted to kill her.

But thankfully, the Willow and Giles had found them just in time, do to the work of one of the witch's newest tricks - mastering the spell that would conjure a tiny green light that would lead them to whatever she chose to seek.

They had disposed of the demon quickly, simply decapitating him and then burning him, but their slayer couldn't have been helped. Not by them, anyway.

No, this would take the work of the team of doctors in the Sunnydale General Hospital.

They'd been there for hours, watching their friend occasionally drift in and out of conciousness, yet not ever becoming fully awake.

"Did you call Angel?" Willow's soft voice suddenly asked.

Xander absentmindedly nodded, his gaze still fixated on the frail girl lying on the bed. "Yeah, about forty-five minutes ago. He should be here any minute." His eyes suddenly welled up with tears. "God, she looks so helpless."

"Xander." Willow whimpered, crushing her face to his chest and beginning to heave broken, unstoppable sobs, which only caused the boy, who was still attemping to keep up his brave front, to crush under his saddened friend's heartbreak. He too began to cry.

Giles watched them, his own emotions threatening to overwhelm him, but in the end, he did not allow himself to break down. No, he had to believe that this would all work out, that nothing that couldn't be fixed would happen. He had to believe that whatever higher powers there were would take pity on their broken slayer, and heal her.

He had to believe. Not just for himself, but for the others, because no one else even tried to hope for what they thought would be a miracle.

He suddenly began to pray to every god he had ever heard of, willing for what he had come to know as his daughter to wake up.

*

He walked heavily, with a purpose and a destination. Through the hallways, to the room number that Giles had told him to come to.

He avoided the various doctors and nurses that told him to stop as he passed the main office, but instead picked up his pace and set his dark gaze on the space in front of him.

He couldn't understand why she was here. He couldn't understand why she hadn't been able to recognize that demon and kill him before it had the chance to do the same to her.

When Xander had phoned him, he hadn't wanted to believe it. But somehow, deep down inside, he knew it was true.

A part of her was angry at her, angry for putting herself in a situation like that and letting things get too far.

But he knew that he shouldn't judge her when she couldn't defend herself. And it looked like she wouldn't be able to do that for a very long time.

She was broken, he knew. Although she was the slayer, a strong and extremely powerful woman, she was also a human being. And she was going to take rape just like anyone else. Maybe even harder because she could have stopped it.

He stopped at her doorway, and almost collapsed in a fit of tears and agony as her saw her.

An oxygen mask was hooked to her nose, an I.V. protruded from a vein in her arm, and a blood-soaked bandage covered her midsection.

He ended up staggering to her bedside, slumping down into a chair and taking her hand in his.

"Angel." Giles greeted him.

The vampire returned the welcome with a nod, but refused to take his eyes off of his beloved.

"I'm glad you came." He continued.

Recognizing the need of privacy that he felt, he began to usher the others out. "Come along, there's nothing left for us to do." He gently said.

Willow's tears came harder, and Xander gently took her by the shoulders and lead her out, still supressing his own tears.

Casting one last sorrowful look to his slayer, his daughter, he hung his head and trudged out, closing the door behind him.

*

Angel gazed longingly at her face, marred with bruises and cuts. The blood beckoned him, called to him, but he ignored the strong urges he felt and instead brushed the hair upon her forehead out of her face.

"Buffy." He hoarsely whispered, his own voice sounding weak to his ears. He almost expected her to respond, and only grew sadder when she didn't. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you when this happened. I didn't expect anything like this. I'm almost.. I'm sorry that I feel this way, but I'm mad at you for what happened."

He wearily stood, approaching the only window that overlooked the darkened city. "How could you do this, Buffy? How have you changed so much that you can't recognize a demon when you see it? How could you become such a - such a slut to open your legs to a guy that you barely even know?!"

He took an unneeded breath and turned around, wanting to see her sitting up in bed, gazing at him with those hazel pain-filled eyes, yearning to see any kind of sign that she was awake.

Nothing.

She lay there, the heart monitor beside her bed blimping away, her breathing deep and even.

He sighed and sat himself upon the chair once more. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "I didn't mean that."

He gently took her hand, massaging the inside of her palm with his thumb. "When I think about you.. about a guy taking advantage of you.. I get crazy. I can't think straight. Hell, I can't think at all. Right now, I just want to find every demon of his breed and beat the crap out of them.. but then I see you here, laying in this hospital bed, helpless and dying.. and I want to die with you."

Her eyes fluttered, but did not open.

"I want you to know that I love you. I love you with all my heart and soul and I hate it that you're hurting. If you wake up," The words he spoke hit him harder than he thought they would, and he gulped before continuing, "If you wake up, I'm staying with you. I won't let you out of my site again. And that's a promise."

"Angel." She suddenly whispered.

His head snapped upward, his eyes intently searching her face, and he silently willed himself not to be imagining things.

"Angel." Her lips moved, forming the word in barely a whisper, and he dared himself to hope.

"Angel!" His name came forcefully this time, almost as if pleading for him to help her.

She was alive. She was ALIVE!

"Buffy." He returned.

"Angel.." She mumbled, then attempted to sit up.

Strong hands gently pushed her back down, and she thrashed about, her mind instantly registering that this was a male. She would not let a man touch her again.

But then his voice, Angel's voice, gently soothed sweet murmurings of nothing into her ear.

Only then did she calm, and he easily slid into bed next to her, pulling her close to his chest, cuddling her safely in his arms.

And calm in the sanctuary of his arms, she fell into a peaceful slumber.

Despite the circumstances, Angel knew that in time they would both heal. They would help eachother and through their love, they would soon be okay.

He had to believe it.

For her, and for himself. And although they both had issues to deal with, mostly with eachother, he knew that it wasn't going to be a problem.

They would be together, because that was the way it was meant to be.

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